


Better Creatures

by DistortedDaytime



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Love Story In Snark and Color Theory, Accidental Cuddling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Original Character(s), Rating May Change, Rey just wants a nap, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistortedDaytime/pseuds/DistortedDaytime
Summary: “This...bond thing is going to fade.”“It’s not,” says Kylo. “You know it’s not.”“I don’t believe you.”“Your belief is irrelevant.”--Rey has a teacher, a Force bond, and a chance to finally find her place in the galaxy. She's happy about two of these things.





	1. Chapter 1

_I am made of bullets; shrapnel._  
_You are solar flares_  
_and soft lips -_

  
_better creatures could love you, I know._  
_But now they’ll have to_  
_get through_  
_me._

_-[e.j.](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/post/161316124352/i-am-made-of-bullets-shrapnel-you-are-solar)_

 

Her heart knew how to beat long before he invaded her life. In time, her voice will remember how to scream.

*

Rey’s eyes burn with the effort of wakefulness. Sleep is a waste of valuable time, and as elusive as water in a Jakku mirage. She hasn’t slept since Crait.

She knows Kylo - not Ben, never again-  hasn’t, either. This... _ thing,  _ between them, tells her that much. 

Rey works, trains, and drives her body past all reason, only to lay awake at night trying to bend rest to her will. She’s ready to scream in frustration but even her vocal cords feel frayed from exhaustion, steeped in the lassitude invading her whole body.

He’s awake too. Rey’s lungs fill and empty in time with his, their shared breath loud in the silence. Steeling herself, she pictures their connection, an endless wall spanning the Force. A barrier and a reminder. This way was open until she shut him out.

Rey lowers her defenses a fraction, only to be powerfully rebuffed. She rolls her eyes and tries again, a mental wrap of her knuckles against his thoughts.

_ I know you can hear me. _

Silence. He’s sulking. Of course he is.

_ Fine. _

_ Fine,  _ he snaps, and Rey hides a triumphant smile.

_ I want to sleep,  _ she tells Kylo matter-of-factly.

_ Go ahead. I’m not stopping you. _

_ You want it, too. You need sleep as badly as I do. _

The wall shakes and the sound of his fist hitting durasteel echoes in her head. Rey pounds right back.

_ So help me, if you don’t calm down- _

_ You’ll what? Leave? Then you’ll just stay awake. _

_ So will you,  _ Rey bites out.  _ Alone. _

She withdraws a fraction. Kylo doesn’t follow her, so she pulls back more, more, more, rebuilding the wall brick by brick until-

_ Rey. _

She sends an affirmative through their connection, but keeps building.

_ Wait.  _

If she was standing, one hand would be on her hip, the other cocked out in impatience.  _ Are you going to be reasonable? _

Kylo makes a derisive sound, but he doesn’t argue. 

_ Good. Just...try to relax, okay?  _

Rey closes her eyes, nestles deeper into her blankets, and breathes. 

*

The wall is still lowered on Kylo’s side when Rey wakes up; she catches warmth, refreshment, and a burst of pure relief. 

_ How long has it been since you’ve slept without nightmares?  _ she asks softly.

Kylo snaps to full awareness and throws her out, but not before she catches the humiliation beneath his rage.

_ Not supposed to see, stupid, stupid- _

“You’re welcome,” Rey calls into the empty room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Rey spends another sleepless night, this time kept awake by the glow of a datapad that isn’t hers. She’s short-tempered and unsteady the whole next day cycle and by the time she collapses back into bed Rey is exhausted. She turns the lights off, closes her eyes, and-

No. Oh, no.

Groaning, she pulls the blanket up over her head. Kylo is  _ reading.  _

“You can’t do that during normal hours?” she grouses out loud.

“My days don’t always belong to me,” answers Kylo. 

“Well, it’s distracting.”

“And that’s my problem how?”

“I’m surprised you even know  _ how _ to read,” says Rey, and she’s greeted with a trickle of amusement. “Fine. What’s so captivating that it can’t wait until morning?”

“Force bonds,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “Like ours.”

Rey’s quiet as she peers up from under the sheet. Saying the words, even thinking them, means acknowledging it. His lack of animosity on the subject puts her on guard. Anything that makes Kylo Ren feel something like a normal human emotion can’t bode well.

“You’re not curious?” 

“I don’t need to be curious about something temporary,” says Rey. “This...bond thing is going to fade.”

“It’s not,” says Kylo. “You know it’s not.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Your belief is irrelevant.”

The calm in his voice is infuriating. He doesn’t  _ get _ to be calm about this, not when it pulls at her, taunting, a living thing roaming through her being until even her own skin doesn’t seem to fit right anymore. 

“Irrelevant.  _ Nothing,  _ just like I am, remember?” 

He flinches, but recovers quickly. “Rey-”

“Good.  _ Night.” _

Slamming their connection closed, she flings the sheet back over her head, curls into a ball, and screws her eyes shut, determined to sleep with or without his help.

The light from the datapad goes out. 

*

Rey keeps her boundaries up after that. Sleep comes in fits and elusive bursts; it’s not great but it’s better than nothing, and she doesn’t need him to do it. A scavenger’s life never cared if she was tired or hungry. Rey knows how to survive, so she does.

Any hope she’d had about their connection being solely a product of Snoke’s machinations fades as the days after his death pass. She can still feel Kylo as clearly as ever and she catches glimpses of the world through his eyes, even catches herself making a gloved fist and enjoying the creak of leather against her hands. 

Except, of course, they aren’t her hands, or her gloves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an early update because it's dreary outside and why not?


	3. Chapter 3

A day. A week. They’re still...bonded. Rey hates that word, hates even more that he wasn’t lying about it. The stupid thing has _moods;_ Rey feels its irritation get keener the longer she keeps her half of the bond shut off from Kylo. None of it is fair.

She stomps outside, cranky from the lack of rest and sore from contorting into the _Falcon’s_ engine room, and above all, _tired_ of Kylo Ren. Rey yanks the bond open and forces her feelings onto him, more than a little gratified when she feels him trip and swear.

“Is this what you wanted?” she yells into the open sky. “For everyone in the galaxy to be as miserable as you are, or just me? Either way mission accomplished. It’s working.”

Rey grits out a bitter laugh. “It was a lie, wasn’t it? Everything you thought you could give me.”

Kylo’s hackles go right up, anger lancing red-hot through their connection. “I tried to give you _everything!_ You could’ve had it all, you still could, if you’d just-”

“What? Forget my name? My past? Kill my own father to burn it away? Because that seems to have worked out so well for you.”

He roars and the strength of it makes her ears ring. “You never even _had_ a father! You’re-”

“I AM NOT NOTHING!” Rey screams. “I know who I am, I know where I’m from and I remember every inch of bantha shit I had to crawl through to survive, and I’d do it all again if it meant I never had to meet _you_!”

This time they slam each other out. The bond seethes.

*

Time gets sort of stupid after that. Rey does her best to stay busy and not think of _him_ or the bond’s restless thrashing. She senses its unhappiness and it retaliates by bleeding details of Kylo’s daily life to her, sometimes in images and sometimes in flashes of sensation, more tangible than ever.

They don’t speak, still too furious with each other, each unwilling to break first and lose face by reaching out, but their routines begin to line up. Rey takes to showering when she knows she’ll otherwise feel water running down Kylo’s back, just as he takes to eating similar foods to avoid an awful mess of flavors.

She hates the tiny part of her that likes it. It’s only a small comfort to know he’s as tormented by it as she is.

*

She drifts, a traveler through the line between sleep and wakefulness. Rey’s eyes are closed and she’s just lucid enough to recognize she’s curled around something solid and comfortable. It’s warm, so warm; she tightens her hold around the heat source, nestling closer. The air carries a touch of moisture and a green scent like the forest after rain.

Softness brushes across her cheeks, tickles her nose. Rey huffs a breath to chase it away, but it comes right back and she huffs again, shifting when her face meets skin.

Wait.

Skin?

In a heartbeat Rey snaps to full awareness. Even in the darkness everything in this room is different, from the black sheets to the viewport in the wrong place. The thing in her arms chooses that moment to turn around and she sees familiar dark eyes blinking at her from behind a curtain of messy black hair.

She shrieks, shoving Kylo away, and then she’s back in her own room, sprawled on the floor panting out one unsteady breath after another.

She doesn’t sleep any more that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heading off on an adventure, so this week's update comes early. Thanks to everyone for the kudos and the love so far; I'm thrilled you're taking a chance on this odd little story.

The next time it happens, she’s the one being held.

Rey comes awake slowly and tries to roll over, only to be obstructed by an arm around her waist. She groans.

“This cannot be happening.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” answers Kylo. He lets go and moves away as far as the limited space will let him.

“Why-” Rey catches herself and lowers her voice. “Why are you here? Go _away!”_

“I _can’t!_ " Kylo hisses back. “Do you think I actually want to be here? There’s probably sand in your sheets, desert rat.”

Rey very valiantly refrains from elbowing him in the ribs. “Go sleep on the floor if you hate it so much, scum sucker.”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. You sleep on the floor.”

“You’re in _my_ bed!”

“Don’t remind me!” growls Kylo, trying to move further away only to bang his shoulder on the wall.

Rey stifles a laugh right up until her own shoulder aches in sympathy. She reaches for the bond, looking for a way to oust Kylo, but it ignores her with the air of someone staring determinedly in the other direction. She’s never...done this, shared a bed or whatever sleeping place passed for a bed, with another person. It’s a little cramped; her bunk is built for a single occupant and Kylo is not a small man.

“You know, I’d like you more if I was able to properly hate you,” Rey muses, after long moments of memorizing the way his heart seems to beat in time with hers. “It’d make this easier.”

She sighs when Kylo doesn’t answer. “I’m going to sleep now. If you’re going to stay here tonight, I’d appreciate it if you don’t steal my blankets.”

_Too many frigid desert nights, how can a place so hot turn so cold-_

Oh. Oh, hells. He caught that. Rey refuses to be embarrassed about her past even as she’s annoyed at letting the thought slip, then Kylo pulls the covers up over her shoulders.

There’s going to be hell to pay in the morning, probably, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

*

Once is an incident. Twice is a coincidence. Any more than that is a pattern.

Some nights they’re silent, others pass in whispered conversation shrouded by the spell that seems to live only in the dark, when their guards are down and the what-ifs seem less dangerous.

Rey isn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. All of this is dangerous.

*

Finn corners her after their morning briefing with the handful of remaining Resistance left. Rey has to smile at how easily he falls into step with her, even after the hard months they've spent here in Hutt Space.

“So.” He flashes her a grin, all white teeth and mischief. “Who were you talking to last night?”

A chill runs down Rey’s spine. “What?”

“C’mon, you can tell me. Did you meet someone? You know,” Finn wiggles his eyebrows,  “ _meet_ someone?”

Something like shame sweeps low through her stomach. Rey doesn’t have an answer to that, but Finn hurries on,

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s not like Keldooine is hopping, but if you went to the cantina and brought somebody back, no one cares! Unless they were mean to you, or didn’t treat you right, or, I don’t know, did something stupid, but you’d probably just break their nose and throw them out, so.”

He shrugs. “Everyone deserves a little bit of happiness, y’know?”

Rey makes a derisive sound. “Not everyone.”

“Nah, you’re right. But you do.”

She smiles and nudges his side. They keep walking; Finn’s telling her about the speeder he’s restoring with Rose when Kylo’s side of the bond slides open. Rey stifles a groan. It’s much easier to be annoyed with him in the daytime, when he’s not lying in bed next to her.

_What, Ren?_

He doesn’t answer. Instead he shows her his surroundings, a small office aboard the _Finalizer_ with a desk, two chairs, and as much personality as a barren asteroid. The temperature drops when the door chimes and General Hux strides in. Rey wants to smack the smugness off his face.

She feels Kylo’s agreement through the bond. _Wait. I want you to see this._

“Rey? Everything okay?” Finn asks, and she nods, forcing a cheerful smile.

“Great.”

“Sit,” Kylo tells Hux, and gestures to the chair opposite him. “Thank you for coming, General.”

Hux’s eyes go so wide they look like they’re plotting an escape. Clearly he’s as unused to common courtesy from Kylo as everyone else. He recovers quickly though, and smooths his greatcoat.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Supreme Leader,” he says.

The title makes Rey’s jaw clench in disgust. Kylo’s side of the bond twists, warning, and she sends a rude gesture in response.

“Our co-commandership has not always been...amicable,” Kylo tells Hux.

Rey snorts. A vein throbs in Hux’s forehead.

“However,” continues Kylo, “ego matters much less than the First Order’s common goals, don’t you agree?”

“I do, Supreme Leader,” says Hux warily. “May I inquire as to what prompted such an epiphany?”

“Circumstances change. Perspective changes with them. Which is why I’ve decided a change of your status is in order.”

Hux goes still. Rey doesn’t miss the dangerous flash in his blue eyes or the subtle way his entire body is poised for strategy. Attack, defend, retreat - Hux’s readiness goes beyond military training. It’s the ingrained habit of one used to unpredictability from a young age.

“And that entails...what, exactly?” Hux’s voice is carefully controlled. Rey holds her breath.

“A promotion,” says Kylo, leaning back in his seat. “Congratulations, Grand Marshall Hux.”

Rey yells _“WHAT?!”_ in unison with Hux echoing the same, albeit, much softer, query. Something like a smile passes Kylo’s face. He’d look almost competent, if Rey didn’t hate everything about this.

He continues, “There will be a ceremony and a formal announcement, of course, but I wished you to be the first to know. I trust you’ll have no trouble putting together a team to ensure appropriate protocol is observed?”

“None at all.” Hux stands and executes a razor-sharp salute. “Long live the Supreme Leader, and may the First Order’s glories reign eternal.”

Kylo merely nods and watches him go before slumping back with a loud exhale.

“Why did you show me that?” asks Rey after a few silent moments trickle past.

“So you can use the information as you see fit,” says Kylo.

“That’s not an answer,” she grumbles. “And this doesn’t change anything. I didn’t ask for this and it doesn’t mean I owe you something in return.”

Kylo just waves her off and closes his side of the bond with the air of one brushing aside a sand fly. Stars, he’s insufferable.

“Rey? _Rey!_ ” Finn’s face swims back into focus. “Hey. You still with me?”

She blinks as her senses readjust. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I’m right here. We. Um. We need to go talk to the General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Keldooine,](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Keldooine) for reference.
> 
> You can follow me on [Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I post whatever strikes me at the moment but this story has [a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/tagged/better-creatures) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	5. Chapter 5

The Force must have a terrible sense of humor, because not only does Rey wake up in Kylo’s bed that night, she wakes up with her arms wrapped tight around his chest, one of his hands covering hers. The bastard even has the nerve to be _comfortable._

“That, at least, is something you can’t blame me for,” he mutters, still half asleep.

“Watch me,” Rey mutters back.

Kylo doesn’t mention that she hasn’t pulled away from him yet so Rey lets it rest and stays where she is. Thank the Maker he doesn’t sleep naked, at least. Their physical barriers have dropped after too many nights like this; a little bit of familiarity is probably inevitable when they wake up twined together sometime during almost every night cycle, but that would be far too much.

“Why did you tell me about Hux?” she asks.

Kylo’s fingers drum a lazy rhythm across the top of her hand and he shrugs. “I already told you. To use the information-”

“As I see fit,” Rey cuts in. “And I did. General Organa was very interested to hear it.”

He’s quiet, but the tension in his limbs just at the mention of Leia does the talking for him.

“Did you tell her how you got it?”

Through the Force, which is...not untrue. Rey ignores him and continues, “I don’t understand what the big fuss is about. General sounds much more imposing than Grand Marshall. A General lead armies. A Grand Marshall sounds like they lead festivals.”

“It’s not the title, it’s the principle,” says Kylo in a haughty tone like he’s speaking to someone dim. “It’s the highest rank, therefore it commands the most respect.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Yes, thank you, I figured that much out on my own. But why tell the Resistance about it?”

“And what difference does that information make to the Resistance, exactly? We’re still the greatest force in the galaxy, and you’re still a handful of fugitive idealists out of allies and out of options wrapped up in your own self-righteousness and desperation. The First Order’s chain of command hasn’t changed and our mission remains the same. I gave you nothing to hurt us with.”

“You still gave me something for nothing, which is unlike you.”

She yawns and the motion rubs her cheek against Kylo’s back. It’s almost intimate, even given how strange this whole situation is. It shouldn't be comfortable. It certainly shouldn't be peaceful, and yet.

And yet.

“I shouldn’t have said…” Kylo starts, then goes quiet; she feels his throat move as he swallows.

“What?”

“Forget it. Go to sleep.”

*

The next night Rey gets an unexpected visitor. She’s readying herself for sleep when a change ripples across the Force and her skin prickles with the awareness she is no longer alone. Rey stops finger-combing her hair and straightens, weighing her options. The presence is unfamiliar but it’s not malevolent either. Her staff is within reach.

She turns around, expecting…

Something that isn’t the blue-tinged young man standing at the foot of her bed. A Force ghost? Here?

They study each other. He’s clad in dark robes with a scar across his face. He might have been a certain kind of handsome in life, but Rey can see the pain subtly etched across his bearing.

“Can I help you?” she asks when the silence gets to be too much. Best to start off polite, probably.

One corner of the ghost’s mouth tilts up. “Forgive me. I could only hear your name so many times before I got curious.”

“My, my name?”

“Rey, the girl from Jakku. The scavenger. Desert rat. Rey, the last of the Jedi. You’re quite the topic of conversation.”

She fights a shiver. Rey’s horizons haven’t so much expanded as they’ve been blown wide open since she left Jakku, but ghost gossip is pushing it even by her everchanging standards. “Sorry, but who is talking about me, exactly?”

The ghost chuckles. “Everyone. Master Yoda, when he’s not pestering the others. Master Obi-Wan.”

His stare turns intent. “My son, too. My grandson can’t shut up about you.”

It takes a moment for the realization to sink in. Oh. Oh, stars, no. Rey can’t help it, she starts laughing at the sheer desperate insanity of it all.

“You’ve got to be _joking_ ,” she gets out through gulps of air. “After all of Kylo’s shit about not living up to Darth Vader’s legacy, Darth Vader is here, in _my_ bedroom. It’s official. I’m going mad. I’m going officially mad.”

The ghost - she can’t think of him as _Darth Vader_ , not when he looks so, well, human - waits. “Are you done?” he asks, sounding a little put out.

Rey finally manages to get herself under control and nods.

“My name is Anakin. Vader was...after, for a long time.”

“Anakin. O-okay. Is your curiosity satisfied now?”

“Not yet.” He surveys her. “You're something. I don't know what, but you're definitely something. What I do know is that you need a teacher.”

“I really wish everyone would stop saying that,” sighs Rey.

The constant reminders sting. The closest thing she had to a teacher is gone; Luke gave her what little he could but it barely scratched the surface. The Jedi are no more.

“There’s no one left to teach me.”

“Yes, there is,” Anakin starts, but Rey holds up her hand.

“Don’t. Say it. I have nothing to learn from Kylo Ren.”

“As a matter of fact, you both have plenty to learn from each other, but no. I’m not talking about Ben.”

Because that’s enlightening. Ever so helpful, laden with drama and just baiting her to ask, because Maker forbid Skywalker men actually say what they mean, instead of coating it in subterfuge and ceremony. Kriff, they’re exhausting. Rey sighs again, frustrated.

“I don’t have the energy for guessing games. Will you please tell me who you’re talking about so I can go to sleep?”

To her surprise, Anakin chuckles. “Feisty. I can see why he likes you. Go to Shili. Find Ahsoka Tano.” His form starts to fade. “She won’t be happy to see you, but don’t worry. I’ll tell her you’re coming.”

No. No, no, no, he can’t leave yet. “Wait! Who?” Rey calls, and Anakin gives her one last smile.

“My old apprentice.”

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is [ Ahsoka Tano,](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ahsoka_Tano) for reference. She's pretty great.


	6. Chapter 6

Keldooine hasn’t been kind to the Resistance. The old smugglers’ den they took over still smells like third-rate spice and greasy cooking fires with a nasty hint of dry rot. It’s isolated away from the Hutt Space customs apparatus and they make supply runs into town as necessary, but they don’t have the credits to keep buying both food and silence. Even four real walls and a mostly-warm bed isn’t enough to stop the stress from worming its way under Rey’s skin.

In some ways Anakin’s message is a relief. It’s an escape, even if she immediately feels guilty for thinking of it like that.

*

Finn, Poe, and Leia all react the same way, with incredulity and disbelief.

“Ahsoka Tano was killed by Darth Vader,” says Leia gently. “She died in the Sith Temple ruins on Malachor.”

“Her body was never found,” answers Rey, lifting her chin.

“She worked with Bail Organa during the Rebellion. He’d have known if she survived somehow.”

“Anakin said-”

Rey hates the slight choke in her voice and how deeply the hope of a teacher, a _real_ teacher, is already lodged in her breast. Dimly she senses Kylo perking up; she shuts him out.

“It’s a long shot, Rey, and we’re safe for for now,” Poe reminds her. “If a ship starts coming and going, it’s going to attract attention.”

Chewie rumbles his agreement, echoed by a chirp from BB-8. They’re all being so damn logical, trying to protect her and the Resistance, and it only makes Rey feel worse.

“I have to go,” Rey finishes. “If there’s someone out there who could...actually help me learn to live with this, I need to find them. Even if it turns out to be a wild clawbird chase, I have to try. Please.”

They’re quiet, lips pursed and muscles tense as they look at each other and try not to look at her. The sun beats down on their compound and the overheated air whistles through the fan in the corner, but Rey hardly notices the temperature or the sweat drying on her skin. She bites the insider of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. Please, _please..._

“I know that look,” says Leia after a moment. “You’ve made up your mind and you’re going, regardless of what I have to say about it.”

Rey fidgets.

“So, I might as well say yes,” Leia continues with a grudging smile that lifts some of the grief from her face. She touches Rey’s cheek. “Go, but keep in contact and come home. That’s an order.”

Rey laughs, clear and relieved. “Yes, General.”

*

After months planetside, open space feels like a revelation. Rey charts her course to Shili and stays in the cockpit with one of Chewbacca’s resident porglings until her eyes start to burn with tiredness.

She takes the least-used bunk in the _Falcon’s_ berth and waits.

*

Rey doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but she wakes up some time later, still in her bunk on the _Falcon_ , with her arms snug around Kylo’s chest as if they belongs there, and maybe…

Maybe they-

He starts to wake up before the thought solidifies. Kylo is disoriented and his Force signature spikes with panic, broadcasting so loudly it makes Rey wince.

“It's okay. You're with me.”

“Rey?”

She puts her hand over his. _I’m here. It's safe._

His relief pulses through the bond, crystal-clear and growing brighter, right up until he figures out where they are.

_Not here._

The grief pours off of him in waves, the emotional ebb and flow threatening to swallow everything in its wake. In another life she would think of comforting him, maybe, if he wasn’t responsible for nearly every horrible circumstance he suffers for. Memory after memory flashes across Rey’s consciousness.

_Han, laughing about the smell of wet Wookiee in the cockpit after Uncle Chewie took Ben swimming. Leia, on one of her rare days off, making caf in the cantine and yelling at Lando for teaching him how to cheat at dejarik. Switches click-clicking, the kick just before the hyperdrive engaged, lights bright enough to turn his fingertips red-_

Rey holds on tight. Kylo doesn’t deserve her kindness or her care, but she holds on anyway, waiting for him to let go or throw her off. He slams down his side of the bond instead and she screams through their connection, banging her fists against the walls he’s erected.

_Don’t you dare push me away, Ren, not after everything-_

He rebuffs her so hard Rey’s back hits the wall behind her. The bulkhead shakes; in the distance metal pings, the sound of a bolt popping loose. This idiot is going to rip a hole in her ship if he’s not careful.

Acting purely on instinct, Rey fumbles around on Kylo’s chest, finds one nipple, and twists. Kylo yelps, his side of the bond thrashing unhappily at such a rapid shift from grief to indignation; he seizes her wrist and they go flying across the room, scrabbling and cursing.

“Since when do Jedi fight dirty?” Kylo growls, and Rey laughs in his face.

“Since when are wannabe Sith in any position to judge? _OW!”_

She yells when he pulls her hair and retaliates by biting his arm. Somehow they flop back on the bunk, still fighting. Kylo hits the mattress first, Rey thumps into his chest, sprawled on top of him. They’re close every night, but never like this, never flushed with exertion and breathing hard, in tandem as always. Kylo licks his lips and Rey’s eyes follow the quick flash of his tongue.

She rolls off of him to face the wall, afraid of what she’ll see in his eyes. Rey huffs when he stays on his back and doesn’t reach for her.

“Shut up and hold me, you idiot. I want to get some rest tonight.”

“I didn’t say anything,” answers Kylo, but he puts his arms around her anyway.

The bond goes pink with amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I post whatever strikes me at the moment but this story has [a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.comt/agged/better-creatures/) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love on this odd little story. I get so happy reading your comments, seeing your kudos, and seeing the bookmarks. It means a lot, it really does <3

At first glance Shili doesn’t look like much, but a riot of color explodes into view as soon as the _Falcon_ enters the planet’s atmosphere and leaves open space behind. Rey’s mouth rounds in pleasant surprise. She’s never seen anything so vibrant, not Jakku’s sandy wastes or Takodana’s endless forests, not even the bloody crimson sands on Crait. Oranges, greens, reds, whites, and colors she doesn’t have names for all compete for her attention; her head swivels back and forth as she tries to take it all in at once.

Rey’s breath catches and she smiles. For a moment she’s caught in the wonder of the galaxy; all things and all colors connected through the Force, nothing too small to contribute its own uniqueness. Everything matters.

She guides the _Falcon_ down on the outskirts of Corvala and disembarks. It’s warm but not too hot planetside; the afternoon heat will inspire sweat, eventually, but the light breeze offers enough relief to stay comfortable in breathable fabrics. Up close Shili’s colors are even brighter.

“Well. Here we are,” Rey mutters.

It hits her with sudden brutal clarity that she has no idea how to find Ahsoka Tano.

“How do you think?” asks a voice on the wind that sounds too much like Anakin’s for comfort. “Use the Force.”

Rey makes a face. “Oh. Right.”

One hand goes out, only to drop when she remembers Luke’s blade of grass. Rey concentrates, finds the Force, and pulls. For a moment it’s overwhelming, endless energy swirling around in a vortex, but with an effort she’s able to narrow it down to those who are sensitive to the Force and those who aren’t.

The grass rustles and Rey whirls around, staff at the ready. A trio of armed Togruta emerge from the underbrush, two females bracketing one male. They sheathe their weapons and watch her intently.

“Hello?” Rey greets in Basic, and lowers her staff just enough to look non-threatening.

The three Togruta blink at her in unison. They’re all barefoot, of a height, with rusty reddish skin and nearly identical white facial markings. Siblings perhaps? Related, definitely. Their montrals and lekku are striped with black, still growing, and their blue eyes sparkle with mischief. The female on the left elbows the male and nods to the lightsaber halves clipped to Rey’s belt.

“Jee-di,” she says in a melodious voice, pronouncing the long ‘e’ sound. “Jedi,” she says again, this time with the Basic accent. “Good. We’ve been waiting.”

“You have?”

All three Togruta smile at Rey, showing off sharp canine teeth; the female on the right moves closer and tucks her arm in the crook of Rey’s elbow.

“Auntie’s usually off by a week or two when she expects someone, but you’re only three days late. That has to be a new record.”

“Has to be,” agrees the female from the left, and takes Rey’s other arm.

The male just laughs. “Auntie Ahsoka doesn’t like to leave her workshop during business hours, so she sent us to make sure you didn’t get eaten by an akul on your way here. Come on.”

*

The Togruta chat freely as they walk. They turn out to be triplets, Lohk, Shohk, and their brother Bar’el, halfway through their seventeenth year. They’re carefree and cheerful Rey was never able to be, but she doesn’t begrudge them their happiness. It’s a nice change to meet people close to her age who aren’t broken by the galaxy’s woes, and before long she’s laughing and joking along with them.

The siblings lead her to a garage in a residential area just inside the city. Thick layers of light blue paint don’t fully mask the gritty duracrete texture underneath, but it’s well-kept and lovingly maintained. Flowers and the same colorful grass from outside Corvala grows in manicured patterns along the outside walls. It’s a tranquil enough scene, until an older female Togruta in a half-zipped jumpsuit emerges and slams the door behind her.

Rey’s breath catches and the Force ripples around her. Even with the years and care etched into the lines on this person’s orange and white face it’s easy to reconcile them with the much younger version from Anakin’s memory. Ahsoka Tano. She’s real. She’s _alive,_ and she’s staring at Rey like she’s trying to pierce her with gaze alone.

“We found the Jedi, Auntie,” says Shohk.

“Good. Now go home.”

“But-” starts Bar’el, but Ahsoka interrupts him.

“I said go home. Tell your father I’ll see him tomorrow.”

The triplets sigh. “We’ll see you soon, Rey,” whispers Lohk.

She nods and waves goodbye, unsure what else to do. Ahsoka still hasn’t looked away from her.

“They said you were expecting me?” Rey asks after an uncomfortable silence.

“Oh, yes, I was expecting you.”

“Then you know-”

“You,” Ahsoka continues like she hasn’t heard a word Rey said, “a child of the light, but not soft light, no. Harsh light, like the desert sun you toiled under all those years. A desert sun Force-bonded to a constellation in turmoil. Don't look so surprised, you both broadcast so strongly I’m amazed the whole galaxy doesn't know by now. That, and Master Anakin told me.”

Ahsoka stalks closer and  jabs a finger in Rey’s face. “I am _not_ happy about this. I’ve spent the last 30 years living a good life, free of Jedi and Sith and Skywalkers, and now Master Anakin decides he can drop a youngling at my feet?”

It really does sound terrible out loud. Rey’s an invader here, a nuisance and an unwelcome reminder of the past.

“I’m sorry.”

“And what good does that do? You’re here, stirring up ghosts, but you’re sorry, so that makes everything all right?”

“I didn’t say that! I know this...all of this, the Force, everything, it takes over until you’re just an observer in your own life, watching everything you've worked for spin out of control,” says Rey, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Ever since it woke up I haven’t...I don’t know who I am, anymore, and I hate it. Even when I had nothing, I had my identity, and now I don’t.”

Rey won't cry. She won't. Tears are a waste. She swallows around the tightness in her throat, shoving Kylo aside when he knocks on the bond to ask if she's all right. No. No, she is _not_ all right, and too much of it is his stupid fault.

“I never asked for this, any of it. Anakin’s son wouldn't teach me, his grandson is a lunatic, his ghost sent me here, and I am so sick of Skywalker men I could _scream!”_

She does scream the last part. Ahsoka glares, unimpressed, and crosses her arms. “So. Tell me, then. What’s your place in this story?”

“I…” Kylo’s words aboard the _Supremacy_ , no, no, _no._ “I’m sort of figuring that out as I go.”

Ahsoka grunts, but her eyes soften. “I’m not a Jedi, Rey of Jakku, and I’m not a teacher. I’m a mechanic, and I’m going to stay that way.”

“Then why did-”

“Because,” Ahsoka cuts her off. “I know what it means to carve out your own path through this life. Come inside. And bring that boy with you.”

*

That night cycle Rey wakes up curled on her side. A quick assessment of her surroundings - the softer sheets, a hint of green-scented soap - tells her she’s in Kylo’s bed before she opens her eyes and stretches. He’s awake, shirtless as usual, lying on his back with one arm tucked behind his head.  
  
“Hey,” Rey greets softly. “Have I been here long?”

“I don’t think so. You were here when I woke up a few minutes ago.”

Except for the scar, his features are softer in the low light. He’s not terrible to look at, objectively, striking rather than bland handsome, compelling instead of beautiful. It would be better if he wasn’t so awful, of course.

Rey shakes the thought off and rolls over onto her back, unconsciously mirroring Kylo’s position. They stare at the ceiling in peaceful silence and she’s loath to break it, but as usual curiosity wins out.

_Can I ask you something?_

_Something else, you mean?_

_Ha, ha._ Rey turns to look at him and it’s reflex to meet the hint of a smile on his face with one of her own.

“We’ve been sleeping together long enough to know we can actually manage a civil conversation-”

Kylo’s side of the bond flushes an embarrassed orange. Rey replays what she just said and groans.

“Not like that! You know what I mean.” She pokes his ribs. “Come on.”

Kylo huffs and swats her hand away, but she can tell he’s more amused than he lets on. “Fine. If it means you’ll stop prodding at me like a deranged med droid, ask me whatever you want.”

“Why do you want to be like Darth Vader so badly?”

Instantly his good humor is gone. “You wouldn't understand,” says Kylo, flat.

“Try me,” answers Rey.

“No.”

He’s closed himself off from her, staring determinedly at the viewport. Kylo’s jaw is set in that stubborn way that means he won’t say anything else without a fight, so Rey plays her hand.

“I found a teacher.”

That gets his attention. “Who? There's no one left. The Jedi are extinct.”

“Tell me why you want to be like Darth Vader and I’ll tell you who my teacher is.”

An insistent pressure searches for a way inside her mind, too curious for subtlety. Rey pushes it back and watches Kylo flinch with no small satisfaction.

_Remember what happened the last time you shoved yourself into my head? Knock it off._

“Tell me who you’re training with,” says Kylo.

“Why? So you can hunt us down?”

“So I know what part of the galaxy to keep Hux away from.”

“You...wait, _what?_ ”

“It's not altruism, it's self-preservation. A bond as strong as ours...here. Think about killing me.”

She does. The bond’s rage rises up red and acrid, twisting furiously as the taste of smoke fills Rey’s mouth until she can't breathe. She hears Kylo choking, his body shaking against hers as he struggles for air.

“Okay, okay,” Rey coughs, but it rears up again, shifting from red to inky black. It's coming from him this time, a writhing current of dark brackish water that's going to pull them under-

It's gone almost as quickly as it started.

“See?” Kylo gets out in a hoarse voice. “If you die, I die. If staying alive means keeping you safe, then so be it.”

Which means…his safety matters to her, too. _Shit._

“Hux is going to kill you,” Rey blurts out.

“I know. He’ll stage a coup as soon as I prove myself unfit or as soon as he's confident he can succeed, whichever happens first.”

‘Unfit’ is too nebulous a concept. Someone like Hux could warp its meaning easily, Rey thinks, and Kylo nods.

“Exactly. Promoting him was just to delay the inevitable.”

“Well. Since you're not allowed to die, we’ll just have to keep delaying it.”

Has it really been so long since someone cared about his well-being that even a selfish thought like hers makes Kylo's side of the bond turn shy blue?

He catches the thought and frowns. _Don’t be cute, Rey._

_Don't be an ass, Ren._

She nestles closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Shili](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Shili)   
>  [Togruta](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Togruta/Legends)
> 
>  
> 
> You can follow me on [Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I post whatever strikes me at the moment but this story has [ a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/tagged/better-creatures) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning starts with a bang when the door to Ahsoka’s makeshift guest room swings open. Rey squints, then jumps when a ball of fabric lands on her chest.

“Wha’? What’s going on?”

“It’s time to get ready for work,” says Ahsoka. 

They’d talked long into the night about everything and nothing, bouncing from Rey’s life on Jakku to Ahsoka’s life since returning to Shili. The Jedi never came up; Rey didn’t press it then but she sits up now, heart hammering in her chest, and asks,

“So...does this mean you’ll train me?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Ahsoka answers curtly. “Now get dressed. I need another pair of capable hands around the shop.”

Rey hurries out of bed and pulls on the worn blue coveralls Ahsoka gave her. She ties her hair back into three buns, then goes into the ‘fresher to check her reflection. She nods. She recognizes the person looking back at her. 

After a nice breakfast of fruit, blue yogurt, and some questionably-sourced meat kabobs, Rey follows Ahsoka down into the garage. Dust filters through the morning light while tarps cover half-finished projects and workbenches line the walls. There are tools and parts and scraps galore. Rey’s hands practically itch to get started when she spots some odd droid components in the corner.

“Are those Viper arms?” She cocks her head. ”You can fit them on about anything, if you’ve got the right bolts and a good enough set of wire splicers.”

Ahsoka nods approvingly. “Good eye. I’ve got an old med droid in the back that needs some new arms and I thought we’d try something a little different. Think you can manage?” 

Instead of waiting for an answer, she floats a toolkit over to Rey. “Get them cleaned up and see if you can fit them on.”

The morning passes; a slow but steady stream of Togruta customers starts to trickle in as the sun climbs higher in the sky. A quick break for lunch, then they’re right back to it. Ahsoka is particular but not demanding; she lets Rey work at her own pace and never berates her for asking questions or moving too slowly.

Rey loses track of time as she sinks into the familiar rhythm of work. Altering droid schematics is like starting a puzzle from scratch with no reference point for the final outcome and it’s nice to have a mechanical challenge again, even better because her food for the day doesn’t depend on it. The Viper arms have too many joints for a standard 2-1B med droid and the pincers will need to be replaced with wrist rotators and servogrips before it can perform surgery again, but it’s a good start.

After a nod from Ahsoka she powers on the droid and waits until the hum of gears and a crackle through the vocabulator shows she has the 2-1B’s attention. Rey greets it with a hello.

“Good afternoon, I am 2-1BG5. Please tell me about your symptoms- oh.” 2-1BG5 holds up one of its new arms. “That isn’t standard.”

It sound like Threepio. Rey smiles around the sudden worry for the Resistance back in Hutt Space. “No, it isn’t standard, but hopefully it still works. Do they move all right? Are the joints lubricated enough?”

With a creaky popping sound 2-1BG5 bends all three of the joints on one new arm backward, then forward. “I find them to be very satisfactory, Miss.”

“Rey. Just Rey, please.”

“Very well. I find them to be very satisfactory, Miss Rey.”

“Nicely done,” says Ahsoka as she wipes engine grease off her hands and comes to inspect the work. “We’ll keep 2-1BG5 overnight just to make sure nothing malfunctions, then we can return it to the med center tomorrow.”

She powers 2-1BG5 back down and puts one hand on its head, lost in thought, fingers drumming. 

“Rey.”   
  
“Yes?”

Ahsoka isn’t looking at her. Her eyes are fixed off in the distance and her demeanor has shifted back to the wary and closed-off position from the night before. 

“We need to clarify some things, before I decide to take you on as my student.”

Rey bites her lip and nods. “Okay?”

“First rule...I’m not your Master. I won’t teach you the ways of the Force in any way the High Council would have approved. I certainly won’t teach you that the Jedi Code is the end-all, be-all of your lifestyle and purpose, because it’s not.”

“But-”

A  _ clang.  _ Ahsoka’s hand slamming on 2-1BG5’s head. “Take it or leave it, child. The door’s right there.”

Her age shows more clearly in sorrow than it does in work or in contentment. The memories Ahsoka carries on her shoulders, of people, places, the Clone Wars, Anakin, Darth Vader, even Bail Organa and the Rebellion, aren’t silent anymore. Rey sees her presence giving them a voice.

“I’m not leaving,” she says softly.

“Good. We’ll work, we’ll study, and I’ll teach you what I know.” Ahsoka finally looks at her, blue eyes clear and determined. “Lesson one. The key to living in harmony with the Force comes down to one thing: balance.”

“There is no light without the dark,” Rey whispers, remembering the black and white stones in the Temple pool on Ach-To.

Ahsoka’s gaze sharpens. “Who told you that?”

“Mm? No one. I was just thinking. Balance, like you said.”

Rey fidgets under Ahsoka’s stare. Did she miss something? Probably. There’s so much she doesn’t know yet.    
  
“Can you teach me how to shield better? The. Um. The bond. It’s complicated,” she gets out, after a moment.

Ahsoka smiles wryly and summons Rey’s quarterstaff from its place in the corner. “You having a Force bond would be complicated enough even if your partner wasn’t Kylo Ren, but yes. I can only imagine you need a break sometimes.”

The Force ripples and Rey barely has enough time to open her hand before her staff smacks against her palm. A second later a wooden sword flies past her head and into Ahsoka’s waiting hand. Rey gets into a fighting stance. This, she knows. This, she can do.

“Shields later, combat now?” she asks, and Ahsoka’s smile turns keen.

“Yes. It will be good to have a worthy opponent again. Now, come. I’ve wanted to see you fight ever since Master Anakin told me you were on your way.”

*

By the time Ahsoka calls a halt Rey’s forgone the top half of her coveralls and tied the sleeves around her waist, leaving her in just the bottoms and her breast band. She’s breathing hard, strands of sweaty hair are plastered to her face, and one sniff confirms she smells awful. It’s a great feeling. 

After a quick shower Rey puts on her grey tunic and leggings then heads down to dinner. Lohk and Shohk play cards in the corner while an older male Togruta referees and Bar’el peels vegetables with Ahsoka. She looks so different in her loose white robes, more like the elder Rey expected when she first got to Shili.

“Can I help?” Rey asks, but Ahsoka shoos her away.

“Not tonight. You’ll need your rest.”

“And you don’t, Auntie? OW!” Bar’el yelps when Ahsoka flicks one of his montrals.

“I rest enough, and besides, that’s why I have you all to help me.”

“We’re family,” sing-songs Shohk. The older male Togruta shakes his head, laughing a little.

“Rey, child, do you see what I put up with? Three children and a chosen elder sister who chatters as if she’s still a youngling.”

“Careful, Kett, or I’ll show you just how young I am,” says Ahsoka, but she’s smiling fondly. 

Rey sits on a cushion next to Lohk and lets their easy bickering wash over her. It’s warm here, welcoming yes, but a little bittersweet. So this is what a happy household must be like. 

“What about your family, Rey?” asks Bar’el. 

The question shouldn’t ache after so many years alone, but the smile slips before Rey can grasp it. “I never knew them. No, it’s all right,” she hurries on when Bar’el winces. “Just means I learned to take care of myself, that’s all.”

“You should never have had to,” says Kett. “My chosen elder sister has welcomed you, so we do, too.”

The sentiment behind his simple words is enough to make Rey’s chest go tight. She’s not alone on Jakku anymore. No more dessert, no more portions, no more endless days scratched into the walls. Rey starts when Ahsoka presses a bowl of stew into her hands.

“Oh! Thank you.”

The words come out a little muffled and she’s talking about far more than just the food, but one look at the four Togruta shows her meaning got through loud and clear. 

*

“Rey. Wake up.”

She grunts and rolls away from the thing poking her side. “No.”

It pokes her again. She swats it, satisfied when it recoils. Good. Now she can go back to sleep.

_ Rey. _

_ Ugh, Ren, go away. _

_ The Force won’t let me. _

_ The Force can switch off,  _ she says, grumpy, and Kylo actually laughs. That’s enough to make her slant one eye open and glare at him.

“What’s so urgent that you couldn’t wait for me to wake up like normal?”

Kylo gestures around the room. “I want to know where we are.”

“In my bed,” sniffs Rey. 

“Yes, thank you, but where is your bed, exactly? This isn’t your blanket and I can't see your potted plants.”

“You noticed my plants?”

“Of course I noticed. I was going to ask you-”

“Rey?”

Oh hells, she didn’t hear footsteps or the door to her room opening, and now Ahsoka’s shocked face peers inside, staring at them like she’s seen a ghost. 

“Kylo Ren,” she breathes.  


_ “Ahsoka Tano?!”  _

The bond twists so hard Rey cries out. The connection severs and Kylo vanishes; except for the indent on her sheets it’s like he was never there. She rolls over to catch the last of his warmth as Ahsoka comes over to sit on the edge of the bed.   
  
“I came to see who you were talking to. When you said the bond was strong, this is not what I imagined,” says Ahsoka. She doesn’t sound angry or judgemental, thank the stars.

Rey murmurs, “It’s complicated,” repeating her words from earlier. She reaches for Kylo and to her surprise finds the bond open. 

_ Are you all right? _

He doesn’t answer in words. Instead she sees a glimpse of life through his eyes, hurried dressing, furious adrenaline, running to the ship’s hangar-

She groans. She’d recognize that Upsilon shuttle anywhere.   
  
“Kriff,  _ no- _ ”

“What?” Ahsoka takes her arm. “What’s wrong?”   


Rey runs a clammy hand over her face and sighs. “I- it’s Kylo. He’s coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Viper probe droids](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Viper_probe_droid/Legends)   
>  [2-1B med droids](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/2-1B_surgical_droid)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> You can follow me on[ Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I post whatever strikes me at the moment but this story has [a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/tagged/better-creatures) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all for the love on this odd little venture. Your comments give me great joy. Bonus points to anyone who spots the Samurai Champloo reference.

The day cycle dawns hot and too soon. So does the next day cycle, and the next.

Rey’s bed stays empty.

*

“Miss Rey, you’re beginning to demonstrate signs of sleep deprivation,” opines 2-1BG5.

“‘M fine,” she mutters, taking another swig of caf from her thermos and shuddering at the taste.

A mechanical voice shouldn’t be able to back such a disapproving punch into a single “hmm.”

“I’m _fine,_ 2-1BG5,” Rey grits out.

“Irritability, excessive stimulant consumption, bloodshot eyes-”

Stars, why couldn’t the med center just have taken the droid back instead of ordering new servogrips and hiring her to install them? That way it wouldn’t be pestering Rey or watching her too closely like she’s primed to explode at any moment. It’s not her fault she hasn’t slept in two days.

Kylo’s absence is unnerving. They’ve long developed an unspoken privacy system during the day, but at night everything was different. Rey misses the heat of him next to her, the hints of actual personality peeking out more and more frequently from underneath all of his affect, how his whole body relaxes when they touch. She’s had to share every relationship in her life, except this one. Kylo - the nighttime Kylo - is hers. Was hers.

Even worse, their bond seems excited. Ever since Kylo departed for Shili it’s been bathed in bright happy colors, uncaring that it’s dressed for a party no one is throwing. Rey keeps her side open but Kylo’s doing his level best to keep it closed, refusing to communicate beyond fits and bursts that get more frequent the longer he goes without sleep.

A star chart swims into her vision and Rey drops the socket wrench in her hand, earning a tut from 2-1BG5. The Upsilon shuttle isn’t comfortable, her lower back aches from too long in the pilot’s chair and the meal rations’ aftertaste is stale in her mouth-

“Where are you?” she yells into the empty garage. “Tell me where you are!”

Silence. Rey tries a different tactic. “I’m not running, Ren, and I didn’t tell the Resistance you’re coming. Ahsoka is the only other person who knows. Please, just tell me you’re safe.”

Her own words from the last time they spoke echo back at her:

“ _No. Don’t come here. This is my only chance to actually get the help I need. Don’t ruin it for me....just. Don’t, Kylo, please?”_

The bond throbs at the memory, flushed and unhealthy like an infected wound. Rey grits her teeth and tries to breathe around her frustration.

“Not everything is about _you,_ Ren!”

Kylo closes back off. It shouldn’t sting, but it does. Rey groans and thumps her head on her workbench. She stays there, face pillowed in her arms, until a plate clatters down next to her and Ahsoka’s voice says,

“Darksiders are bad enough as it is, but they’re practically unbearable on an empty stomach. You’re going to need your strength, child. Eat.”

*

Ahsoka closes the shop after the sun begins its descent and, as usual, tosses Rey her staff.

“Get up. Now’s as good a time as any to start teaching you to fight properly.”

“I know how to fight,” Rey snips, and Ahsoka barks out a laugh.

“Yes. And now you learn again. You’re good with a saber, but you’ve got the potential to be great if you work at it. Did Luke teach you any forms?”

Rey shakes her head. “No. The things I practiced on Ach-To with Anakin’s lightsaber were just things that felt right, nothing...official, I guess. Not real Jedi things.”

“‘Real Jedi things.’ Pah. Get into position and hold still.”

Rey does as she’s told, only to yelp and drop her staff when a length of cloth wraps around her eyes and her vision goes dark.

“Kriff, what-”

“You rely on your sight too much,” Ahsoka says, laughter heavy in her voice. “You must learn to rely on the Force.”

Rey blows an errant strand of hair away from her face and bends down to- no. The Force. Right. Okay. Straightening up, she puts her hand out and reaches for her staff. As always the swell of energy is waiting to welcome her; with a flex of her fingers and a tug of the Force her staff is back in her hand.

“Good. Now…” Ahsoka kicks her feet further apart, beyond shoulder-width, before moving away.  “Try to hit me.”

She strikes out with the upper end of her staff and misses. Ahsoka’s wooden sword comes down on her shoulder.

“Again.”

Rey readies herself. A deep breath, a howl, her staff thrusting out, straight into the midsection of the unfortunate in her way-

“ _OW!”_

Ahsoka lands a second blow on her already-smarting shoulder. “Focus, Rey. Your surroundings don’t matter here like they did on Jakku, or on Starkiller Base. The sand and snows aren’t going to shift under your feet and give up precious ground to your enemies. Once you let go of the seen, the unseen will be your guide.”

Rey closes her eyes behind her blindfold. Her eyelashes brush against the fabric and the air is slightly humid in Shili’s late afternoon heat. The Force ebbs and flows all around her, connecting all things, a universal truth that’s so complicated yet so simple at its heart. Her energy is present as always, Kylo far away, Leia further still, distant as a beacon. Ahsoka, moving, moving-

Instinctually Rey’s arm shoots up, staff out to block the blow as their weapons clatter to the floor. She peels back her blindfold to find Ahsoka beaming at her, blue eyes full of mischievous pride.

“Good, good! Now, do it again.”  
  
Rey grins and hurries back into position.

*

Ahsoka guides her through the basics of Form I - “Shii-Cho, the Way of the Sarlacc,” she tells Rey, laughing - before they stop for the night.

“You’re going to be a sight to behold when all is said and done. I don’t envy your opponents.”  
  
Rey flushes at the praise. Life on Jakku necessitated a certain amount of fighting, but she’s never had an opportunity to actually hone her technique or learn what she’s capable of.

“That’s why you’re here,” says Ahsoka when Rey tells her as much. “Now go wash up for dinner. Lohk, Shohk, and Bar’el dragged Kett to the projection house to see that new holovid they’ve been raving about,  so we’re on our own tonight. Do you like spiced leathermeat?”

“Leather- _what?_ ”

Ahsoka just laughs. “Oh, girl, you’re in for a treat.”

*

After a lifetime of rehydrated portions and mostly-clean water, the variety of flavors in the galaxy is astounding. Some are pleasant, some aren’t, but the spiced leathermeat is…something.

“It’s different,” Rey says through streaming eyes and a runny nose. Her mouth feels like it’s on fire.

Ahsoka nods and reaches across the table to spoon more noodles into Rey’s bowl. “Different, indeed, and as hot as the Mandalorians can make it. Do you like it?”

She barely remembers to swallow before speaking. “I don’t have anything to compare it to. I don’t know how I should feel about food that actually hurts to eat, but it’s delicious, and I think I...like the hurt? Is that normal, for things like this?”

“Very. Spices aren’t for everyone, but yes. Many of us enjoy that feeling. Drink your blue milk; it’ll help with the burning.”

Despite days of spending mealtime with Ahsoka, the anxiety of putting her food down in front of someone new still plucks at Rey’s gut. This isn’t like before; there’s more than enough to go around and Ahsoka won’t try to steal or cheat her out of her fair share. If anything, she’ll insist Rey eat a second portion, even a third, and she’s not shy about getting Kett and the triplets to join in.

_Go rinse out your mouth. Everything tastes like a Mandalore street cart._

Kylo’s voice startles Rey so badly she almost spills her milk. His side of the bond keeps shifting in and out of focus, blearily kinetic as he struggles to keep it closed off. He’s exhausted, Rey realizes, but more urgently he’s close. He’s here, on Shili.

“Ahsoka-”

One wrinkled orange hand raises, cutting her off. “I know. I feel him in the Force, and he is angry. Come on. We might as well get this over with.”

*

The closer they get to Corvala’s spaceport the more uneasy Rey gets. The only predictable thing about an angry Kylo is his unpredictability. Sure enough, there are no Upsilon shuttles berthed, not even any TIE fighters or anything else from the First Order’s navy.

“He’s being subtle, at least,” mutters Ahsoka as they leave the spaceport and take a shortcut back towards the garage. Her montrals are turned down in displeasure. “I wonder how long that little stroke of common sense will last.”

A crash echoes from just up ahead. Rey winces. “Not long.”

Kylo’s anxious fury hits Rey so hard it makes her nauseous even as her own rises up to clash with his. The bastard. She told him to stay away; he wouldn’t listen, and now here he is _again,_ striding around the corner and back into her life to upend everything she’s worked for without a second thought. Whatever goodwill that’s built up between them over so many nights together is gone in a heartbeat.

“Oh stars, just like his- Rey? _Rey!_ ”

It’s too late. Rey takes off running as soon as she sees Kylo, teeth bared, blood pounding in her ears, one hand stretched out to call a lightsaber, any lightsaber. Two come hurtling toward her and she ignites them without a second thought. A familiar crackle, a flash of scarlet as Kylo’s bursts into life an instant before they collide in a shower of red and white sparks.

Static ripples through the Force and the bond leaps.

“I can’t _believe_ you-”

“ _ME?!_ You’re the one who-”

Whatever they say next is lost in a haze of strikes, parries, and swears; dust gathers around them, coating Rey’s coveralls and Kylo’s tunic in a fine gritty film. The Dark edges around her connection to the Force but Rey pushes it down. She’s furious at him without being a slave to that fury, and somehow enjoying every second as her body remembers how to combat his. Steps to an old dance, moving to music only they hear.

“That. Is. ENOUGH!”

The whole alley shakes at the power behind Ahsoka’s words. The spell breaks; they pull apart and step back.

_I don’t yield, Ren. I’m listening to MY teacher._

His jaw tightens and she knows the point hit home. Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice chose her, not him.  
  
_Of course you are. Couldn’t risk alienating your last hope after Skywalker tossed you aside. I wonder where else in your life we’ve heard that story..._

They both stumble back as a wave of Force energy threatens to steal their feet from under them. Ahsoka’s face is thunderous as she declares,

“Force save us all from children with too much strength and not enough sense.” She jabs a finger in Kylo’s face. “One word out of you, Ren. Just one.”

He’s silent as a tomb. Rey stifles a grin.

“And _you,_ my girl...don’t ever touch my sabers without permission again.”

They fly out of Rey’s hands and back to their rightful master, who catches one in a reverse grip.

“If you two are going to fight, go out into the grasslands. I won’t let the city be destroyed because a pair of frustrated younglings refuse to deal with their bond like grownups. Now. Are you finished, or do I need to throw you out into the wilderness?”  
  
“We’re done,” mutters Rey.

“We’re done,” Kylo agrees, and turns to look at her, just for a second before biting the inside of his cheek and looking down.

The bond glows happily. Rey groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spiced Leathermeat](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Spiced_leathermeat)   
>  [Form I](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_I/Legends)
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> You can follow me on [Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I post whatever strikes me at the moment but this story has [a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/tagged/better-creatures) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	10. Chapter 10

“Larkon Thirn. Your name is Larkon Thirn. And you’re visiting from Mygeeto.”

The look on Kett’s face perfectly matches his disbelieving tone. Rey holds her breath, waiting, but after a pause Kylo nods once, consenting to the identity Ahsoka crafted for him.  
  
“I am.”

A glance passes between Kett and Ahsoka; they hold a brief conversation in Togruti before Kett sighs and holds out his hands.

“Fine. You may stay. You’re welcome to the sleeping pallet and old clothes in the attic, but only as a favor to my chosen elder sister, understood?”

“Understood,” answers Kylo, nodding again.

 _This is the part where you thank him,_ Rey prods.

_Chosen elder sister?_

_Oh NOW you want to talk?_

Kylo ignores her. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Kett’s expression doesn’t change. “Don’t make me regret this.”

*****

The next morning Rey wakes up to dry wind and the scent of heated metal. She opens her eyes, squinting at the desert sunlight streaming into her makeshift home.

The sheer wrongness of it all, from the slight swing of her hammock to the sand between her toes, hollows out the space in her heart she’s been steadily filling ever since she left this place. There’s nothing on Jakku to grieve for, because there was nothing really here to begin with. It aches all the same.

Rey sits up and her vision shorts out like a holocall on the fritz. The greenest place in the galaxy, a warm smile set in a brown-skinned face, spices in her mouth, then...nothing.

“This is a dream,” she breathes.

Rey doesn’t remember falling asleep. She remembers laying in her bed in Ahsoka’s spare room with her eyes screwed shut and the bond closed off as tightly as she could keep it, counting loth-cats in her head to keep from reaching for Kylo. She won’t break first. She _won’t._

She lies back in her hammock and uses one foot against the wall to rock herself a little, like she used to. Dream or not, it’s strange to have leisure time out here in the Goazon.

A wave crests across the Force. Kylo. Of course.

“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. I’m too tired to fight with you,” Rey calls.

“All right.”

She lifts her head, peering around, and spots him over by the generator. After a moment it groans to life and Kylo looks up, eyes wide.

“It actually works.”

“Of course it works,” snaps Rey.

“And you...built this. With no help or instructions.”

She presses her lips together and comes to stand next to him, waiting for Kylo to condescend her or make a crack about rats in the sand, but instead he looks genuinely impressed.

“How?” he asks, peering at the parts.

“It’s the AT-AT’s laser cannon energizers wired into a TIE fighter’s solar panel, and if there’s one thing Jakku has a lot of, it’s sunlight," Rey answers. “Simple, really.”

“Hardly.”

If Kylo feels Rey’s eyes on him he doesn’t show it; he’s dressed in his normal black sleep pants and a Togruta-style sleeved tunic, one of Bar’el’s if Rey’s not mistaken. In the low light the circles under his eyes are smudged dark as charcoal stains on unwitting fingertips.

“This is one of the worst excuses for a home I’ve ever seen,” says Kylo, after a beat.

Rey shrugs. “It’s a shithole, I know, but it’s _mine._ ”

“It’s...remarkable,” he says, still looking around with interest. “You should have died out here.”

Rey recoils instantly. Of course he’d strike right at her most vulnerable place, even if he looks...it’s unlike Kylo to look confused when he’s being cruel. Whatever. He aimed, he took his shot, and it landed.

“Get out, Ren.”

Now he definitely looks confused, dark brows furrowed and mouth slightly parted. “Why?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Rey bares her teeth at him. “You just told me I should have given up and let the sand pick my bones clean, so get the _fuck_ out of my house!”

Kylo growls but he doesn’t back down. “No. That’s not what I was trying to say, and you know it.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. You’ve got five seconds to explain.”

Kylo lets out a breath and fixes his eyes on the ceiling, on the floor, looking anywhere but at her. “So many others would have-”

“Four seconds.”

“Damn it, Rey _-_ ”

“Three seconds. Hurry up or I’ll sell you to Teedo.”  
  
“What’s a- no, never mind. I _meant_ , anyone else would have died here. You didn’t. You’re a survivor, and that’s something to be commended. That’s what I was trying to say,” he gets out in a rush.

She blinks. There’s a compliment in there somewhere, maybe. “Oh. Um, thanks.”

Her vision shorts out again. Leia, younger and not so burdened. Young children in identical light robes, sitting cross-legged. A hunk of cracked red crystal.

Rey’s sitting down in front of the wall when she comes back to herself this time. There’s no point in making a tally there tonight.

“I saw these marks,” Kylo says softly, from his place next to her. “Just now, I saw them. Except there weren’t nearly as many, and your fingers were trembling.”

“I saw the children you murdered,” she answers in an equally soft voice. “They were still alive. You were in a room together, meditating, but you kept opening your eyes to peek.”

Kylo hums and doesn’t answer. He raises one hand to the wall. It’s deeply unfair that he gets to have such nice hands; large but proportionate to his size, broad palms, elegant fingers, natural awareness of his movements. It’s even more unfair that Rey catches herself thinking about them so much.

Her hand comes up to join. Even in a dream the scarred metal around her hatch marks is jagged against her fingertips and she’s learned the hard way that the shavings will embed in her skin if she isn’t careful.

“I was alone for so long,” she muses, more to herself than to Kylo, “and now, with you, and this bond, I’m never going to be alone again, am I?”

He turns to look at her. “Do you want to be?”

*

Rey jolts awake, one hand still outstretched, reaching.

*

The knowledge of Kylo’s nearness prickles at her all throughout the work day. Since there’s nothing else she can do on 2-1BG5 until the rest of its parts arrive, Rey’s set about building herself a new speeder. It’s normally fascinating work. Normally, though, there isn’t an impatient Force bond poking, prodding, or tugging her in Kylo’s direction.

“You’re worse than a child,” Rey mutters, and rolls her eyes when the bond seems to quiver in amusement. “I hope you do this to him, too.”

By the time it’s time to close up she swears every hair on her body is standing on end. Between the restless nerves and getting some actual sleep, Rey is all but overflowing with energy. Since it’s a hot humid day she changes into a half-tunic and the special short leggings she found with Lohk and Shohk at Corvala’s night market. She re-ties her hair into a messy pile on top of her head and goes to the back area of the shop they’ve converted into a makeshift training room.

The bond turns yellow and tightens, coiled with anticipation.

Kylo is already there, finishing up his practice session. His back is to Rey, but he goes still the instant her eyes land on him. It’s the first time they’ve been alone and actually in the same place since the _Supremacy._

A million words live and die on her tongue in the space of a heartbeat. Kriff, what is she supposed to _say?_

Kylo powers down his lightsaber and turns around. Rey knows his face by now, from the light spatter of freckles to the slope of his nose and the generous curve of his mouth, but this...this is different. She catches him looking down at her chest and bare midriff before his eyes fix stubbornly on hers.

For a moment their sides of the bond match perfectly; yellow ripens into a vivid orange, heavy with things unspoken, then Ahsoka strolls in and the tension breaks.

“Stay or go, Ren, but get out of the way,” she says briskly, not deigning to look at him. “Rey. As we’ve practiced.”

Rey nods and gets into position. It’s getting easier to reach for the Force as she fights; it’s not second nature yet but already she wonders how she went so long without it. It’s getting easier, also, to balance the dual importances of footwork and anticipation as she works to deflect Ahsoka’s strikes. Stars but she loves this, and nothing, especially not Kylo, can take it away. He’s watching from his seat on the crates against the far wall; his side of the bond is nothing but pure focus, studying every move she makes.

It takes less than ten minutes for him to interrupt.

“Why are you starting her with Form I? Her powers are far beyond anything Shii-Cho has to teach.”

Ahsoka turns aside Rey’s staff and fixes Kylo with a look cold enough to freeze boiling water. “The Determination Form requires just that: determination, and patience. If you had even a scrap of either one you’d understand why it’s necessary to start at the beginning.”

Rey guffaws and quickly claps a hand over her mouth. Both of them turn to look at her; she clears her throat and cocks her head.  
  
“Determination? I thought you said it was the Way of the Sarlacc.”

Ahsoka gives her a mischievous grin. “Every form has multiple names. I just like Sarlacc better. Get back into your position. And you,” she says, pointing to Kylo, “if you think I’m obliged to justify _anything_ to you, ever, then let this be a wakeup call. If you don’t like it, then you’re welcome to introduce the business end of your saber right to your backside.”

 _See?_ _This is why I told you not to come,_ says Rey. _You’re going to make her mad._

Kylo slides off the crates and stands up, arms crossed. _You’re better than this._

_I’m learning so I WILL get better. Go...help Kett, or watch a holovid with the triplets. Come back when you’re not going to be a total jerk._

His eyes blaze; for a moment Rey expects him to lash out, maybe destroy the crates, but Kylo reigns in it and stalks off. She doesn’t watch him go.

*

After dinner Rey climbs onto the roof to watch the moons rise. She hasn’t seen Kylo since he stormed out of the garage, but she’s not surprised to find him up on the deck, lying on his back and staring up at the stars. Rey pinches herself just to be sure. Not a dream, then.

“How did you know about this place?” she asks.

“Shohk - maybe Lohk? One of the girls kept dropping horrible hints that you’re up here almost every night,” he answers.

“What color were the ends of her lekku?”

Kylo frowns. “White, I think.”  
  
“That’s Lohk. Shohk’s are black. Easiest way to tell them apart.”

The wooden decking is cool against Rey’s back when she lies down. “Did you come to apologize for being an ass this afternoon?” She turns her head to look at Kylo, who stares solemnly back. “Or for being rude to my teacher?”

“You’re not going to demand an apology for coming to Shili after you said not to?”

“No, because I know you’re not sorry for that.”

“No, I’m not.”

He turns back to the sky. Rey is still angry at him and she can feel his frustration with her, but they’re both at a controlled simmer instead of a wild burn. It’s almost normal, or what passes for their normal, at least, like the first handful of nights they woke up in each other’s beds. Through the Force her energy syncs with Kylo’s; she reaches tentatively through the bond and finds his side open, waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mygeeto](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mygeeto)   
>  [The Goazon Badlands](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Goazon_Badlands)
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> You can follow me on [Tumblr](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if you like. I'm a random thing and my blog is mostly a place to store whatever I think is neat at the time, but this story has [a tag](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/tagged/better-creatures) so please feel welcome if that's your jam.


	11. Chapter 11

Ahsoka is waiting when Rey comes down for breakfast the next morning. She raises an eyebrow, gaze travelling across Rey’s wrinkled clothes and the indents on her face from using Kylo’s arm as a pillow.

“I’d bring some bedding up on the deck if you’re going to be sleeping up there,” she says conversationally. “Some tarp, too. The rainy season starts soon and you’ll get soaked without it.”

Rey nods. She feels seen, and she doesn’t like it. “We didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

She sits down to eat and does her best to act normal. She gets three bites into her protein porridge before she stops, looks up at Ahsoka, and asks,

“Are you mad at me?”

Ahsoka’s face softens from careful neutrality into something warmer. “No, Rey, I’m not mad. You’re doing what you do best: trying to make your way through an impossible situation. That’s nothing to get upset about.”

Rey slumps a little. “Are you going to tell me to be careful?”

Ahsoka laughs, a touch wistful. “Not today, girl. Not today.”

*

Rey learned a long time ago that routine has a way of establishing itself under even the worst circumstances. Time, fate, the Force, whatever...it all moves forward. Having Kylo on Shili is no different. Her days take on a new dimension with him around but once the bond settles a little and they arrange a schedule for where to sleep, or ‘bed custody,’ as Rey likes to call it, it’s good. Maybe not _good,_ but better than it has any right to be.

She quickly figures out there’s a big difference between waking up next to someone in the middle of the night and actually choosing to share a bed with them. Learning Kylo’s nighttime routines and letting him learn hers is an exchange Rey wasn’t quite prepared for. The masked creature from the _Finalizer_ is somehow the same man whose ears turn bright red every time he lays next to her and doesn’t complain beyond a sigh when she steals the covers.

“Sorry,” she whispers, and tugs half of them back on Kylo’s side of the bed, but he brushes it aside.

“Keep them. I’ll be warm enough.”

Rey huffs a soft indignant laugh. The bond is a peaceful blue and the night’s calm is starting to sink into her bones. “That’s because you’re a furnace, Mr. I Don’t Need A Shirt To Sleep. You put off enough heat for both of us.”

“I don’t hear you or your cold feet complaining,” says Kylo, and she knows without looking that he’s smiling, just a little.

They settle in, not touching yet. Thank the Maker their first couple nights of lying stiff and miserable on opposite sides of the bed are over and they’re easing their way back toward the not-friendship that’s defined so many nights since the Battle of Crait. Rey hasn’t slept this well in ages. She rolls over onto her side and stretches.

“G’night, Kylo.”

“Goodnight. No...wait.”

She turns to look at him. “What?”

“I…” His throat moves as he swallows, then starts again. “Back there, after- I shouldn’t have said...you’re not nothing, Rey. That was uncalled for.”

The bond pulses with light and her heart does a traitorous flip in her chest. “Did you just apologize to me?”

Kylo pulls the covers up over her shoulders. “I’m just stating a fact.”

Without stopping to think about it Rey moves closer. It’s easier to treat physical contact like a reflex and a side effect of the bond rather than something to examine closer. Besides, it’s just unimportant stuff like cuddling to share space or make sure they actually sleep. Not like…

_Not like their fingertips touching, the barest brush of skin that sent sparks through the deepest parts of her soul as the Force seemed to say yes, there you are, I’ve been waiting-_

“Rey?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, g’night.”

She pillows her head against his bicep. Kylo starts a little in surprise but he doesn’t push her off.

*

It’s too peaceful to last.

The commlink next to Kylo’s pallet, the First Order standard issue Rey tries to ignore, goes off in the middle of the night less than a week after he arrives on Shili. It’s his night, so she’s nestled in his mishmash of blankets and bedding in Kett’s attic when the comm’s beeping jerks her unhappily into wakefulness. Rey grunts her displeasure as the arm around her waist moves and Kylo’s warmth disappears.

_No, come back._

Kylo doesn’t answer and the bond turns an unhappy grey.

“Ren,” he says into the comm.

“Ah, Supreme Leader. I’m glad I caught you.”

Hux’s voice slithers down Rey’s spine and chases away any hope of sleep.

“Your report, Grand Marshall,” says Kylo in a monotone

“Yes, of course. The construction of the First Order Tribunal building on Coruscant is proceeding according to both plan and budget. As requested I’ve sent a list of potential appointees to your datapad-”

Rey stops listening. Words like ‘war crimes’ and ‘detention center’ filter in here and there, jarring reminders of just who is in bed next to her. How could she she let herself get so stupid about this?

“-one of the smaller systems in our mining sector was reluctant to part with their ore, but their concerns have been neutralized and the previous arrangement restored. Troopers have been left on the ground to ensure it stays that way.”

Neutralized. Rey doesn’t have to ask what that means. More innocent people have been slaughtered for daring to protect their only livelihood against the First Order’s greed. She can’t stay here, can’t listen to this, not even to gather intel to pass on to the Resistance.

The bond protests as she hurries upright, going from sullen grey to feverish red as it turns sick and angry. Kyo reaches for her but Rey wrenches her wrist out of his grip.

“Wait!”

“Is this a bad time, Supreme Leader?” asks Hux. “We can resume-”

The voice cuts off when the comm shatters, hurled against the far wall.

“Rey-”

“No!” Rey’s eyes sting. Stars, is there anything worse than trying not to cry in front of him? “I’m not going to stay here and listen to you plot how to murder my friends! I said _NO!”_

Rey shoves him back with the Force imbued in her words. Kylo slumps in a heap, looking dazed, but he doesn’t reach for her. The bond waits.

“How long before they’re here, Ren? There’s no way Hux isn’t tracking your ship. You’re going to lead the whole First Order straight to Ahsoka and Kett and the triplets and then more lives will be ruined!”

Hot tears burn trails of shame down Rey’s cheeks as she pulls on her clothes. She’s sick with anger, at Kylo, at herself, at the bond and its audacity to throb in pain _now_ of all times, angry at everything. She steels herself to meet Kylo’s eyes.

“You destroy everything you touch. I won’t be collateral damage.”

Rey runs from the room before he can answer, slamming her side of the bond closed as she goes. A crash echoes behind her, some innocent victim of Kylo’s rage, and it makes her run faster, down the stairs, past Bar’el, out of Kett’s house and into Ahsoka’s garage, where her teacher is waiting.

“Rey?”

Somehow it’s the sound of her own name that breaks her. Rey buries her face in Ahsoka’s shoulder and sobs.

*

2-1BG5’s servogrips and wrist rotators arrive by courier shortly after Rey hauls herself to work the next morning. Ahsoka offered her the day off after she’d finally stopped crying, but work is the best distraction Rey knows, so she lays out her tools, ignores 2-1BG5’s questions about her puffy eyes, and starts the job.

She skips lunch to meditate up on the roof deck, but it’s no use. She’s unbalanced and the bond thrashes like a restless snake. Clearing her mind is next to impossible when all she sees is a familiar face, bisected with scar tissue.

Half an hour passes before Rey gives up and heads back downstairs. Ahsoka doesn’t comment on her missing lunch, she just nods to the nutrient bar and bottle of burrfruit juice waiting next to Rey’s spanner wrenches. It’s a small gesture, a kind one, the sort of thing Finn would do. She tears open the wrapper and starts eating.

Halfway through her small meal Rey gets a burst of courage and starts, “At the Temple…”

Ahsoka raises an eyebrow but doesn’t dissuade her, so Rey continues.

“At the Temple, did those Jedi really believe in severing all attachments?”

“It’s right there in the Code: ‘there is no emotion, there is peace,’” Ahsoka answers, and glances down at the circuits in her hands. “It’s what we were taught as younglings and then as Padawans. It never made sense to me.”

“Why not?” Rey takes a sip of juice and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Mostly because it’s stupid and unrealistic. Where would any of us be without our feelings for others? How do you inspire loyalty or form a friendship? The Jedi could call it whatever they liked; attachment, companionship, love, it all stems from the same thing and trying to be rid of them is pointless. It used to get me in trouble.”

Ahsoka smiles, but it's heavy with memory. “Master Anakin used to call me Snips, because I had a temper and used to snip at him. There’s no shame in using your feelings for another person as a guide to your actions, so long as you don’t let those feelings control you or compromise who you are. Do you understand?”

Rey nods. “I think so. I didn’t have anything like that on Jakku, but now...I don’t know what I’d do without my friends, and I’d do anything for them.”

“Exactly, which is why we toss that rule in the trash,” says Ahsoka. Her expression lightens a little as she changes the subject. “How’s our med droid coming along?”

“2-1BG5, raise your arms,” calls Rey.

A pair of too-long arms shoot into the air, servogrips waving merrily in all directions on new wrists.

“I find my new parts to be unconventional yet most satisfactory, Miss Rey. I am up to standard and able to perform surgery again,” says 2-1BG5.

Rey wrinkles her nose at the formality. She still hasn’t been able to break 2-1BG5 of the habit.

“Good. We’ll return you to the med center first thing tomorrow and you’ll be back in the operating room before you know it,” says Ahsoka.

“Thank you, Madame Tano,” intones 2-1BG5, and Rey stifles a smile at Ahsoka’s look of distaste.

“Worse than a protocol droid,” Ahsoka mutters under her breath. “How do you feel about closing early today, Rey?”

“I thought one of your rules was to never close early.”

“That’s the good thing about being the boss...means I get to make the rules _and_ break them,” answers Ahsoka with a wink. “Close early, do our training now, maybe grab Kett and the triplets and go to the projection house later?”

“That sounds nice, thank you,” answers Rey softly, smiling a little.

*

Since meditation is a no-go for the day Ahsoka opts for a back-to-basics approach and they head outside Corvala into the turu-grass. The colorful blades rustle in the wind and tickle Rey’s legs as they walk. They stop a fair distance out in the scrublands near a rocky outcrop, where Ahsoka folds her hands in front of her chest and gives Rey a solemn look.

“Now, my young Padawan, one of the most important skills for a Jedi to harness in the Force-” her mouth twitches- “is how to float rocks.”

Rey smothers her laughter and tries to look serious. “I understand, Master.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment before breaking into giggles. Ahsoka recovers first and wipes at her eyes.

“Believe me, I know this is a stupid exercise. But, in light of last night I think your lesson for today is less about the Force and more about channeling your energy. Acknowledge your pain, and use it not for revenge, but to better yourself. Being aware of your emotions - not shoving them away, as the Jedi were so fond of doing - is critical to finding your center, understand?”

Rey thinks about it for a second, remembering their earlier conversation. “Use my feelings, but don’t allow myself to be ruled by them,” she says, and Ahsoka smiles.

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Rey closes her eyes. The Force hums in her and around her, the current of life and death, the air in her lungs, the wind on her face. There’s still hurt and anger, but it doesn’t stop her from leaning forward and balancing on her hands. She is one with the Force. The Force is with her, from the tips of her toes all the way down to the dirt under her fingernails. She is not alone.

“Good. Now...one hand out, and lift.”

Rey topples over. It’s the best she’s felt all day.

*

The afternoon sun is high in the sky when they get back to Ahsoka’s garage. Rey aches from the myriad new bumps and bruises she acquired from falling so many times, but it’s nothing a long soak in Kett’s tub won’t fix.

Kylo’s been quiet all afternoon. Too quiet. She slides the bond open a fraction, just to check, and feels his approach like an oncoming sandstorm back in the desert. Kylo isn’t bothering to shield or hold anything back; he’s an open wound of longing, fury, and conflict as the bond ripples from color to color. Even his focus is off, it’s erratic and nowhere near as sharp as normal. His attention isn’t on her, it’s on-

“Tano!”

Rey whirls around. Kylo looks terrible, with red-rimmed eyes, tangled greasy hair, and battered knuckles. “What happened to you?” she asks.

“Get out,” he says in a monotone, still not looking at her. He reaches for Ahsoka, the Force swirling around him. “You will tell me about Darth Vader.”

“Ren, stop-”

Ahsoka’s eyes blaze and her Force signature, usually so calm, turns jagged as she rebuffs the compulsion. “No."

_“You will tell me-_

“Don’t. You. _Dare.”_ One weathered orange hand shoots out and cuts him off, fingers pulled tight as Kylo chokes and clutches at his throat.

The bond goes white-hot as Kylo struggles. Ahsoka won’t kill him, it’s not her way, but her Force signature spikes with anguish as she holds him in place. It’s enough to give Rey serious pause. She should leave and let them sort it out, but she can’t leave her teacher _or_ her, her, whatever. Her person. She just can’t. All she can do is try to breathe. Find whatever scrap of balance there is to be found in this mess.

With a sharp gesture of her outstretched hand Ahsoka throws Kylo against the wall. The grip on his throat eases; he chokes down some air before his breathing is constricted again.  

“I told you I don’t owe you any explanation, Ben Solo. Neither I, nor anyone else in the galaxy owes you anything! You hurt? You were wronged? _So what?”_

_Rey- I can’t- I can’t breathe._

Rey’s vision swims and she sees the dark spots dancing in Kylo’s eyes, how his eyesight is starting to blur at the edges. She’s getting lightheaded. “Ahsoka. Ahsoka, please, we need air.”

Ahsoka’s lips thin and she doesn’t answer, but with a gesture and a twist her hold on Kylo changes and he slumps forward from his unnatural position, sucking down lungfuls of air as Rey’s vision snaps back to normal. Ahsoka just shakes her head and keeps Kylo pinned.

“You stupid boy.” The wall vibrates and the bond shrieks crimson, but Kylo can’t get loose. “Who do you think you are, coming to _my_ home and demanding answers about _my_ teacher? You have no right-”

“I have the only right!” yells Kylo. “I have the blood, I have the strength, and I’ve used it to become Jedi Killer, Supreme Leader-”

His head meets the duracrete with a sickening crunch. Ahsoka’s laugh is a hard unkind sound, undercut with something brittle and agonized.

“You’re no Jedi killer. I didn’t survive Order 66 and Palpatine’s Inquisitorius only to listen to a child call himself ‘Jedi Killer’ for murdering a handful of younglings!”

Swearing ferociously, Kylo redoubles his efforts, sweat plastering his hair to his face as he struggles to free himself. Despite Ahsoka’s outer calm Rey can feel her strain, so she raises one hand, reaches for the Force, and reinforces the hold. Kylo’s head snaps back again and the bond convulses furiously at such a betrayal. Good. Let him feel what it means to be angry and helpless.

“Your titles are meaningless, Ben Solo. Who _are_ you?”

“Stop calling me that!” he screams, voice hoarse with naked terror cracking through his rage. “Ben Solo is _dead!_ ”

“That’s interesting, because he’s right in front of me.”

“No-”

Rey flicks two fingers and Kylo’s mouth clamps shut. Ahsoka gives her an approving smile.

“Yes. Kylo Ren tried to torture me on the _Finalizer,_ Ben Solo touched my hand on Ach-To, and if I have to live with both of them then so do you!”

Kylo’s eyes flick wildly between the two of them and he’s screaming in Rey’s head. She shuts the bond tight, silence, blessed silence as Ahsoka speaks again,

“Are you strong enough to reconcile the Ben That Was with the Kylo That Is? If you can let Darth Vader go and learn from Anakin’s mistakes, then and only then will you come into your true power. That pain in your chest that feels like it’s going to tear you apart? Let it. Stop fighting the Light and the Dark. You’re not meant to be one or the other: you’re meant to be _both._ Find your balance and the pain will go away.”

She slams him against the wall once more then lets him drop. Kylo falls in a heap, grunting as he hits the ground. Rey tastes blood where she’s been biting the inside of her cheek. She watches, stomach in knots, as he lurches to his feet and stumbles out of the garage on unsteady legs.  
  
Ahsoka lets out a long breath. For once she looks her age, then she, too, walks out of the garage, leaving Rey alone.

*

Minutes, maybe hours later, Rey is still in the garage when an explosion shakes the building. A bolt of white-hot agony sears though the bond and she doubles over in pain, hands clamped over her ears. Everything in her head is screaming, screaming, the Force is disturbed, where’s Kylo, why can’t she feel him-

“Smoke! From the shipyard!”

Rey forces herself upright and takes off running.

_BEN!_

There’s no answer, just a wisp of memory, fingertips brushing and terrified hope-

Then, blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Inquisitorius](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Inquisitorius)   
>  [Order 66](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Order_66)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *steeples fingers*
> 
> I'm on Tumblr over at [bigneonglitter](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/), if that's your jam.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You, my lovely readers, are wonderful! Thank you for coming with me on this adventure. Please water your local author plant; she blooms with your comments and kudos.  
> (also I'm not a medical professional, so please forgive any inaccuracies in this chapter.)

The world comes back in half-dreams and deceptive snatches of lucidity.

Rey’s eyes open to unfamiliar grey duracrete. Those aren’t the right cracks on the ceiling; they distort into liquid before her eyes and the terror of not knowing where she is chokes her right back into unconsciousness.

The second time, she wakes to badly-hushed voices arguing  just outside the door. They’re upset, but those voices - _Ahsoka, Kett_ \- are safe. It’s okay to go back to sleep.

The third time, she manages to grunt and flop one arm over her chest.

“Please remain calm, Miss Rey,” intones a familiar mechanical voice as 2-1BG5 swims into view. “You need to stay still.”

Her eyelids are so heavy. Maybe she can go...back...to sleep…no.

Ben.

Kylo.

_Where’s-_

Rey starts shaking and the table she’s lying on shakes with her as the Force reacts to her worry. “Where’s Kylo?” she croaks, and tries to sit up only to slump right back down.

2-1BG5 whirs and points. “I don’t know who you mean, Miss Rey, but  Mr. Larkon Thirn is right next to you.”

Rey is just conscious enough to brush against the bond before everything fades back to black.

*

The next thing she registers is so familiar Rey nearly cries in frustration: hunger. Her stomach loudly protests its emptiness and rebels at the stringent smell of disinfectant nearby. She knows from hard experience trying to eat now would be a waste.

Wincing, she rolls over onto her side and sees Kylo on a makeshift doctor’s table within arm’s reach of her bed. Bruises mottle his skin, one eye is swollen shut, and there’s a too-large batca patch over his ribs, but he’s breathing on his own. The bond is quiet, restive, and it warms in greeting.

Hesitant, fingers trembling, Rey reaches out to brush the scar on Kylo’s face. Her scar, her mark, _hers._ If he’d died...hells, if he’d died she’d be dead too, but he didn’t, so she didn’t, and that’s that. There’s no need to dwell on it or for Rey’s heart to race and her chest to seize up in terror, she can’t breath, can’t breathe, can’t-

_“REY!”_

Ahsoka’s voice snaps her back to the present. The walls stop shaking and Rey squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to take stock of her body.

“You’re both safe now,” murmurs Ahsoka, and strokes Rey’s hair. “You’re in your room, in my garage in Corvala. It’s going to be alright. Here. Have some water.”

Rey gulps down a few sips and manages not to choke. “Wh-what happened?”  
  
“We don’t know yet. Kett is preparing his shuttle for when you’re stable enough to travel. We’ve packed at least a month’s worth of supplies-”

Rey’s heart drops. “You’re sending me away?”

“Only for your protection, not because I want to be rid of you. There’s been no sign of the First Order yet, but it’s only a matter of time before they learn their Supreme Leader might be dead and come looking for him. They know who you are, Rey, and you can’t let them find you. You’re too important.”

She bites her cheek to keep from crying, but the tears escape anyway. “No. No, please, they won’t find me here, I promise.”  
  
“Rey. Listen to me. The First Order may be a tribute act to the old Empire, but they follow their tactics and they do not leave enemies alive. They’ll want details, and then they’ll want revenge, and that’s assuming the order to kill Kylo didn’t come from inside the Order itself. You have to leave while there’s still a chance.”

“I won’t leave Shili to suffer! I’d never risk harm to you or your chosen family or the Togruta. Please, Ahsoka, this is where I need to be, I _know_ it.”

Ahsoka’s lips thin and she sighs through her nose. “The first hint of the Order-”

“Then I’ll go. At the very first sign, I swear it. Gone. Like I was never here.”

Rey holds her breath. Maybe she’s not thinking clearly but Shili feels more like a home than anywhere she’s ever lived and the thought of losing it makes her sick and maybe a little selfish.  Finally Ahsoka nods.

“Go back to sleep, my girl,” she says, and rests her palm on Rey’s forehead, the Force a warm embrace in her words. “Rest while you can.”

*

Rey wakes up again in the middle of the night, groggy and a bit disoriented. Kylo’s table has been pushed closer to her bed and they’ve moved toward each other in their sleep; Rey yawns, stretches, and shrieks when she looks over to find Kylo awake, staring her with his good eye.

“Stars, you almost gave me a heart attack!” She punches his arm. “Don’t _do_ that! Sorry, sorry,” Rey adds when he grunts in pain, but she punches him again, lighter this time. “Don’t scare me like that again!”

He is the most frustrating person she’s ever met, but the thought of a life without him is too much to bear. Kylo...matters.

_You’re not supposed to die, remember?_

“You had to know I wasn’t in danger. You felt-”

She felt his last thought, of her. “Yeah, yeah, if you die I die, of course I remember, but that’s not the point!”

_I was worried, damnit._

_You...you were,_ he answers.

Kylo’s side of the bond flushes a little in surprise and pleasure; it makes Rey’s side flush to match. It settles in her and for the first time since she woke up Rey can finally relax. She’s too tired to be angry right now. He’s here. He’s _safe._

He’s also still looking at her, his gaze pensive and unguarded. Rey thinks for a moment, searching for the right words. ‘I was scared of losing you’ feels too honest and ‘I’m glad you’re all right’ is too obvious. In the end she says nothing and settles for chewing her lip. She doesn’t know what to say to this man who’s somehow both a total stranger and her most intimate companion. 

At a loss, she scoots closer and wraps him in her arms. They normally do this the other way around and she’s mindful of his injuries, but Rey hangs on and just breathes. He’s warm, so warm, too big for her to envelop like he does her, his heart beating against her chest.

 _You’re still insufferable and I haven’t forgiven you for coming here in the first place, but you’re not allowed to go around getting blown up,_ she huffs down their link.

Kylo hums an affirmative, already slipping back into sleep. _I’ll make a note of that._

Her arms are trapped. She might as well stay.

*

2-1BG5 comes in the next morning to change Kylo’s bandages. “And good morning to you, Mr. Thirn. How are you feeling today?”

“Like I’ve been sat on by a bantha,” says Kylo, making no move to leave Rey’s arms.

“That’s to be expected after sustaining serious primary blast injuries. Your thoracic basket will require rest and no strenuous activities, the tympanic membranes have already been repaired and you’re still being monitored for any signs of recurrent pulmonary contusion-”

“Basic, 2-1BG5,” Rey interrupts, and smiles a little at the gratitude Kylo sends her way.

2-1BG5 coughs lightly and continues. “Your ribs are badly bruised and need to be handled with care. I fixed your eardrums and inserted a monitor in your chest to ensure there’s no more fluid buildup in your lungs. Is the incision giving you any discomfort?”

Instantly Kylo’s Force signature spikes with panic and he freezes 2-1BG5’s outstretched arm in place. “What. Incision.”

Rey sends some calm down the bond. It seems to nod in thanks but Kylo doesn’t relax.

“I didn’t give permission for surgery,” he snaps.

“You were unconscious and unable to give consent when Master Kett brought you in,” tuts 2-1BG5. “Life-threatening internal damage requires immediate treatment and while I appreciate your displeasure-”

“Thank you, 2-1BG5,” Rey interjects, sitting up. A stubborn droid and an edgy Kylo is a recipe for disaster and she is not in the mood to deal with any of it. “I can change Mr. Thirn’s bandages after you check his vitals.”

Kylo gives her a look. Rey gives him one right back, daring him to argue. When he doesn’t say anything, she nods.

“Go ahead, 2-1BG5.”

“If Mr. Thirn consents-”

“I consent, now go away,” snaps Kylo.

“Then yes, Miss Rey, that will be an acceptable course of action,” 2-1BG5 finishes.

It checks Kylo over before leaving bandages, medical tape, bacta, and disinfectant behind and shuffling off to its corner down in the garage. Rey waits and listens for the telltale vocabulator wheeze of 2-1BG5 powering down, then looks at Kylo.

“All right, do you want to sit up for this or stay lying down?”

“How does playing nurse droid go along with you not wanting to be my...ah. Yes. My ‘collateral damage,’ that was it. Seems counterproductive.”

The bond contracts unhappily. What’s counterproductive is Kylo wrapping himself in anger to hide his terror, but Rey doesn’t mention it. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks she’s going to put up with any of his shit after everything he’s pulled recently. Hells, after everything, ever. Add ‘almost dying’ to his list of sins against her.

“You’re back to being a bastard, so that’s a good sign you’re feeling better.” Rey yanks one of the bandages off without warning. Kylo yelps, then glowers at her.

“You enjoyed that. Hurting someone for pleasure is of the Dark. You feet it, don’t you?”

He’s trying to goad her. There is darkness in her, of course there is, but over the course of Ahsoka’s lessons Rey’s learned not to fear it so much. It’s essential to the balance in all things.

“I feel it, and I am not afraid. Fear may be of the Dark, but acceptance is of the Light. I know what I feel, and I understand it. You should try it sometime.”

“Try what? Pseudo-Jedi affirmations that would make even the Church of the Force laugh? What would your teacher say to that?”

“If it got you to shut up she’d probably thank me. And besides, if you’re calling Ahsoka a Jedi then you don’t know half as much as you think.” Rey rips off another bandage, ignoring Kylo’s swearing. “Hold still and let me do this. Stars above, everything is three parsecs forward and two parsecs back with you.”

Another glower, but no response. Rey is no stranger to wound care; she works quickly and efficiently, doing her best not to touch Kylo any more than necessary. Not that it matters, with the way they sleep and the way they wake up, tangled like-

_It fits._

Rey looks up. “What fits?”

“We do,” says Kylo, matter-of-fact.

Her breath catches. “I know.”

“So then why are you fighting it?”

“ _Me?!_ ” Rey’s hands still on Kylo’s skin and she tries to breathe around the tangled knot of emotion in her chest. He’s the only person who’s ever made her feel so _much._ “All you’ve ever done is fight, Kylo. When you have ever tried to make this...whatever _this_ is, work?”

“I always have! I asked you- I _begged_ you to come with me,” Kylo answers, the brokenness in his tone a direct contrast to the fire in his eyes. “You said no.”

“So did you,” Rey gets out, “and then you followed me here anyway, on that stupid ship that’s probably so crammed full of First Order sensors it can barely take off!”

Kylo throws his hands up. He’s not yelling, though, or breaking things, which is a minor miracle. “Every sensor on my ship is sliced and re-patched to tell the trackers I’m in a different system several times every day cycle, all millions of parsecs from here. Do you really think I’d let the Order get anywhere near you?”

“I don’t know what you’d do. Let’s see...kidnapping, torture, letting me use you as a pillow, saving my life...and those are just the highlights! How am I supposed to know anything about what you’ll do or not do, Kylo? I don’t _know_ you! You won’t let me.”

Kylo’s whole expression changes. He opens his mouth then closes it again. “You...want that?”

Rey makes a frustrated sound and buries her face in her hands.  “Of _course_ I want to know you! We’re bonded for life, in case you forgot,” she exclaims, jabbing him in the chest, “and I’ll be _damned_ if I’m going to spend the entire time with a stranger!”

Kylo looks like he’s been hit by a Star Destroyer. The bond is still, waiting.

“I didn’t realize,” he says in a soft voice.

“Well. Now you do. Three parsecs forward and two parsecs back, remember?”

Kylo nods and lays back.

*

Kett comes in with a loaded tray just as Rey finishes up.

“Here. You both need some nutrition. The broth shouldn’t bother your stomach and Ahsoka made sure there’s extra protein in it.”

Stomach growling, Rey thanks him and takes the food, going right for the bread roll near her soup. Kett nods, then crosses his arms and gives Kylo a look.

“My children want to know if they still have to call you Larkon Thirn. To quote Lohk, it’s a stupid name. To quote Shohk, we already know who you are, and to quote Bar’el, you’re not going to hurt us because it would make Rey mad. I’m inclined to agree with them, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo’s jaw works for a moment, then he nods.

“Good. Now, there’s burrfruit juice for you, Rey, and citrus mix for Kylo. Don’t worry about bringing the dishes back; just send them over with the triplets when they sneak over to see you. If you need anything, just yell.”

“Thanks, Kett,” says Rey around a mouthful of bread, and Kylo echoes her.

_Don’t talk with your mouth full, scavenger._

_Oh, switch off,_ she answers, grinning at him.

Kylo makes a noise of disgust, but he moves his bread roll onto her plate, and the bond croons its approval.

*

Rey spends several days in bed with Kylo, doing little more than eating, sleeping, and changing his bandages. It helps that he’s a mostly model patient. Rey only has to threaten to call 2-1BG5 once before he relents and lets her look after his injuries. Kylo takes to slipping her some of his food at every meal, though, and refuses to take any of it back. Back on Jakku sharing food was all but unheard of. Sharing food _and_ medical care would be tantamount to a marriage proposal.

Learning to be cared for is difficult after a lifetime of indifference and self-sufficiency. Nothing and no one ever made allowances for Rey to be sick or too tired to work, and they certainly never ordered her back to bed like Ahsoka does after she tries to go into the shop that afternoon. Part of her chafes at the treatment; time and time again Rey’s proven she’s more than capable of looking after herself. Having friends in the Resistance, a mentor in Ahsoka, and something like siblings in the triplets, takes the ground out from underneath her perspectives.

It’s nothing new, she tells herself. Just another sandstorm to live through and another obstacle to overcome. Nothing is different.

Under the blanket, Kylo’s hand brushes hers.

*

True to Kett’s word Lohk, Shohk, and Bar’el come to visit, sometimes through the door like normal beings and other times climbing in the window in a heap of limbs and laughter. Today they opt for the door.

“Rey. Hey, Rey.”

Lohk sing-songs her name and scampers inside, followed by Shohk and Bar’el. Beaming, Rey waves in greeting and gestures for them to keep their voices down.

“Kylo’s sleeping.”

Shohk grins. “Is he actually sleeping, or pretending to be asleep so he doesn’t have to talk to us?”

Rey snorts. He mostly ignores the triplets or acts indifferent towards them, but she can feel his grudging respect for their total lack of fear about just who he is and what he’s capable of.  
  
“Have you seen the vid?” pipes up Bar’el, all but bouncing on his toes in excitement.

“Oh, right!” says Lohk.

“Show her,” says Shohk.

Rey blinks at them. She’s been in bed for three days, of course she hasn’t seen it. “What vid?”

“It’s all over the Holonet,” Bar’el says, and brandishes a datapad. “Here. Watch.”

Rey takes the datapad and presses ‘play.’ The scene shows central Coruscant, where a sea of spectators watch a finery-clad procession of First Order elite climbing the steps of the Senate Building to assemble in formation. Hux is the last of them all, in full military regalia with a long cape and train carried by Troopers. He looks even more smug than usual, which Rey didn’t know was possible.

Kylo makes a noise in his sleep and rolls over so his head is in her lap. Rey starts, Bar’el giggles, and Kylo makes a drowsy sound like nothing strange is happening. He’s actually relaxed, though, and Rey doesn’t have the heart to move him. She settles the datapad awkwardly on his head.

 _I’m not furniture,_ he grumbles.

 _Neither am I, but you’re still laying on me,_ answers Rey. _We’re compromising. Do you want to watch this?_

Kylo huffs a warm breath against her thigh and doesn’t answer.

Onscreen, Hux stops on a dais front of a wizened old man holding a scarlet pillow in his hands. Rey squints, trying to make sense of the glimmering jet-black object on the pillow. It’s round but too thick to be a necklace and there’s no clasp, so it can’t go-

Hux gets to his knees. Rey gasps.

_Kylo. Kylo, get up. You have to see this._

With a grunt Kylo peels himself upright and looks at the screen just in time to see the crown placed on Hux’s head.

In spite of her own mounting panic Rey reaches out through the Force to gauge his mood. She expects fire, absolute chaos, but instead there’s nothing. No anger, no burning need for revenge, just an empty silence that terrifies her more than anything else.

_Say something. Please. I don’t care what, just. Please. You’re scaring me._

His mind brushes hers but his attention is elsewhere. Even the bond is on edge.

The coronation drags on while the triplets comment about the ridiculousness of First Order pomp and circumstance. Rey barely hears them. She can’t listen to this, this _banta shit,_ as Hux pontificates about sacrifice and reason, as if that horrible bastard ever cared about them in his life. She won’t listen to it.

“I have personally avenged the murder of Supreme Leader Snoke-”

Hux pauses, the crowd gasps, and Rey goes cold.

“The traitor Kylo Ren has been executed. Let his death be a signal that dishonor and disorder have no place in the galaxy.”

“Long live Emperor Hux!” cries one of the stewards, and the call is immediately picked up by the assembly. “Long live Emperor Hux!”

It swells through the crowd until the four words reach a crescendo. Rey fights down the bile rising in her throat. What a horrible sycophantic display, don’t these people know what the First Order really is? Don’t they _care?_

The bond, instead of reacting to her distress, leaps so suddenly Rey almost drops the datapad. It’s, it’s _happy,_ filled with inexplicable joy that she can’t for the life of her figure out. Rey racks her brain, poking and prodding at the facts like they’re salvaged goods. Hux is Emperor. The First Order is in control of the galaxy. Kylo Ren is dead.

Still nothing. It doesn’t make sense. There has to be something valuable here. Think. _Think._ Hux, Emperor. First Order, in control. Kylo, dead.

Wait. He’s dead.

Rey shrieks and grabs Kylo by the shoulders, shaking him in her excitement.

He’s not dead. He’s free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr over at [bigneonglitter,](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if that's your jam. If anyone knows any good Reylo exchanges, do hit me up over there and let me know :) I don't know people in this fandom (particularly not any older folks like myself) but I'd like to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the summary to better reflect that this is no longer a one-shot I wrote to try and get this pairing out of my head. Just write it, she said, it'll go away, she said...ha. Clearly not.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments; they make me so happy! Please continue watering your author plant so she can thrive.

An hour goes by after the triplets leave and Kylo hasn’t said a word. He’s barely moved and his energy in the Force is still flat and empty. Of all the versions of him Rey’s seen before - angry, murderous, asleep, tentative, hopeful - this is the most inscrutable.

Sighing, she sits up, brings her knees to her chest, and rests her head on her arms to look at him.  
  
“You know, you’re ignoring me quite a lot for someone who’s run himself ragged all across the galaxy just to find me.”

That gets a huff, but still no answer.  
  
_I’m not ignoring you. I’m…_

Okay, no vocal answer. Rey can work with this. _Trying to think?_ she asks.

Kylo nods.

 _I’ve heard dead men are notoriously bad thinkers,_ Rey answers. _Do you want to be alone?_

Just the word ‘alone’ sends up a rotten, fearful feeling from him and Kylo shakes his head.

_Okay. Not alone. Got it. Um...do you want to meditate?_

Kylo turns to look at her and Rey studies him, unabashed. The last of afternoon’s golden light catches all the oddities in his profile, the scar’s slight indent on his forehead, the too-long slope of his nose, the lush crooked mouth that has no business being on a face like his. It all works, somehow.

His side of the bond touches hers, soft as fingertips. Rey exhales a shaky breath. Now’s not the time to think about that connection sending warmth to her cheeks, or, or, anywhere else.

Fortunately Kylo doesn’t seem to notice. He stands up and stretches. “Up on the roof should be good.”

She nods, smiling a little. “Lead the way.”

*

From Ahsoka’s roof Corvala’s skyline unfolds in a mishmash of striped curves and sharp points. Some of the buildings are the standard tower blocks found throughout the galaxy, but many more take their influence from the Togruta themselves, sweeping into the air like the proud montrals of their ancestors. Swollen grey clouds blanket the distant horizon in direct contrast to the blue sky above them.

Rey takes a deep breath and tastes the oncoming storm. She settle cross-legged on some pillows next to Kylo, her knee touching his. Closing her eyes, Rey reaches for the place inside her she’s learning to identify as her connection to the Force and sinks into it. The Light welcomes her like an old friend but the Dark is there too, waiting. She doesn’t turn away from it.

Next to her Kylo’s Force signature thrums as strong as her own. It’s deeply conflicted, though, and he shies away from the Light despite craving it so badly his energy practically keens.

 _I am not afraid,_ she says down the bond, more to herself than to Kylo. _Can I come in?_

He opens for her. Rey isn’t about to touch anything in his mind, not now and certainly not without permission. Instead she focuses on what he’s feeling. Stars, Kylo’s a mess. Rey winces at the raw blistered confusion pulsing through him. Kylo’s desire for revenge is only a fraction of what he wants it to be; rage’s fire can’t burn without fuel and the spark to destroy Hux and reclaim the First Order just won’t catch.

_Click._

Rey snaps her fingers and the sound echoes across the bond. She shows Kylo her reflection from the cave on Ach-To. A thousand Reys, a thousand possibilities, a thousand chances to start over.

_Click._

A shadow moves behind her reflection, tall, male, familiar even though she can’t make out his features. Her hand comes up against the mirror, then a second, bigger hand to bracket it, fingers sliding into the hollow spaces between hers as if they were always meant to be there.

_Don’t be afraid, Kylo. I feel it too._

He gasps. The air passes through Rey’s lungs as their eyes open and the connection snaps, the world rushing back into her consciousness. Wow. Wow, okay, that was a lot more than she expected, but there’s no harm done and the bond is a soft shade of grey. Trying to catch her breath, she turns to look at Kylo, unsurprised to find him already watching her.

He starts, “That was…”

“Something,” Rey finishes. “I know.”

The wind picks up, blowing a lock of dark hair across Kylo’s face. Rey cocks her head, then reaches up and tucks it behind his ear. She clears her throat, draws her hand back, and ignores the sudden heat in her face as the bond glows. Her side flushes and his...his likes that, if the pink tinge is anything to go by.

“The way I see it,” she says, “is that for the first time in your life you’re not tethered to who anyone else thinks you should be. You get to choose.”

He looks so lost; it’s heartbreaking. Rey scoots closer and loops one arm through his.

“Let the past die, remember? You can be Kylo, you can be Ben, or, or, kriff, you can pick a new name and be whoever you want. Make Larkon Thrin a real person.”

“That really is a stupid name,” says Kylo, and Rey can’t help but laugh.

“It’s awful, isn’t it? But, my point is, _you get to choose._ When was the last time you got to do that?”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“What do you want me to be?” he asks.

Rey considers it. “I want you to find-” She pauses. What kind of peace is there, after a life like his? “I want you to be _you,_ once you learn who that is.”

Heat lightning flashes in the distance. Kylo rests his head against hers.

*  
  
The storm hasn’t hit by the time Rey goes back to work the next morning, but the temperature has dropped and the dark clouds are moving closer.  
  
Ashoka directs her toward a ladder as soon as she gets into the garage. “Up you go, Rey. Our projects are on hold until we get this place shored up for the rain.”

“Any idea what time it’ll get here?”

“Sometime this afternoon if I had to guess, but storms don’t like to keep a schedule.” Ahsoka comes over and wraps Rey in a brief one-armed hug. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back. The med center came to get 2-1BG5?”

“Yesterday, and not a moment too soon. It took Kylo’s criticism personally and you know how droids are with grudges.”

Does she ever. Rey hums her agreement, thinking of BB-8 as she nudges the ladder up against the garage’s south wall. She misses her friends in the Resistance. It’s been too long since she’s heard Finn’s voice.

She starts climbing, gets halfway up, then turns back. “Ahsoka, do you have a projector I can borrow?”

“A projector you can slice and encrypt and scramble within an inch of its circuits, or a normal one?”

“...the first thing,” Rey admits, and Ahsoka gives her a wry look.

“In that case, I’ve got just the one.” The wind picks up, rattling the ladder. Ahsoka peers up at the sky. “Hurry! Get up there and get those gutters clean. We don’t have much time.”

*

They spend the rest of the morning shoring up the garage in a race against the oncoming storm. Ahsoka reinforces the windows while Rey finishes the gutters and moves onto getting the deck’s equipment covered in plastithread tarpaulins lashed to anchor points lodged deep in the duracrete. The smell of ozone hangs heavy in the air.

Shili’s heat is different from the desert; even the lower temperatures are no match for the stifling humidity, so Rey forgoes the top half of her work coveralls for training. Ahsoka pushes her hard and the burn in her muscles is welcome after days of forced leisure while thunder rumbles and their weapons clatter. Rey does her best to stay an open conduit as the Force flows through her. The Light warms one shoulder while the Dark offers the other cooling shade. She appreciates both sensations, seeking as always the balance in all things.

Rey takes a break to get some water and reaches out through the bond to check on Kylo. He’s napping, on his stomach, arms tucked up under her pillow. Wait, how does she _know_ all of that? The bond flexes, showing her it’s stronger now than it’s ever been.

“Show off,” mutters Rey, and rolls her eyes at its amusement.

Grinning, Ahsoka calls, “Come on, break time’s over,” and urges Rey back into position. Her expression turns younger, mischievous. “Want to try something new?”

Glee bubbles up in Rey, fizzy and sweet like the drink Shohk made her try once. “Yeah!”

Ahsoka digs around in her tool chest and pulls out its false bottom to reveal her lightsabers. “Here. You’ll have your own soon, but for now you can use my shoto.” Her face turns sly. “Unless you’d rather borrow…”

Her eyes flick up, in the direction of Rey’s bedroom.

“NO!”

Using Kylo’s lightsaber once was more than enough, thanks. Ahsoka cackles.

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, get ready. Don’t let me shoot you.”

Rey’s thumb slips on the lightsaber’s ignition when she notices the old blaster in Ahsoka’s hand. “Wait, wait, why are you shooting at me?”

The blaster goes up, aiming right at her heart. Rey powers the short lightsaber on in a hurry and its white blade hums to life.

“I can’t teach you to deflect blaster fire if I don’t give you blaster fire to deflect,” says Ahsoka. She’s clearly enjoying this. “Don’t worry, it’s set to stun. Your job, my girl, is to be at the heart of the storm around you, which is fitting since it’s about to pour down rain. Find your center, keep your focus there, and defend yourself.”

“But what if I deflect the blaster fire back and it hits you?”

Ahsoka’s smile shows sharp white teeth. “It won’t.”

*

As usual Ahsoka is right. She ducks every beam with nimble glee and shining energy alight in the Force. Rey, on the other hand, has singed coveralls and smarting pride. Even a stun blast grazing her leg left a burn mark and rendered the appendage temporarily useless; she drags it behind her on her way the ‘fresher to slap some bacta on it.

“Careful in there,” Ahsoka calls merrily after her. “Tomorrow we’ll mix in some hand-to-hand work, hone your coordination so you’re not limping around like a drunk eopie.”

Rey just rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting a smile. If this is Ahsoka supposedly mellowed with old age, she can only imagine what her teacher was like as a younger woman. Back when Anakin Skywalker called her Snips.

There’s a battered projector set up on Rey’s work bench when she limps out of the ‘fresher. She shoots a grateful smile at Ahsoka and powers it on. Static crackles, thunder rolls loud enough to make Rey flinch, then a familiar face pops into view, blue-tinged from the holo.

“Identify yourself!”

Rey can’t help it, she starts giggling. Finn squints and peers closer. “ _Rey?!”_

“Hi, Finn.”

“Rey! Oh, Maker, REY! How are you? How’s Shili? Did you find Ahsoka Tano? Are you training? What’s happening?” His face splits into a wide smile. “There’s so much to tell you and I want to hear everything, especially since you look so…”

Finn cocks his head. “Different. Good different!” he hurries to clarify, “but yeah. You look. I don’t know. More settled than you did before you left.”

Rey grins. It’s so good to see her first friend again. “Thanks, I think. I feel better.”

“Who’s feeling what, now?” Poe slides into frame with a rakish grin that quickly softens. “Oh, just you, Madame Jedi. How you doing, kid?”

“I can’t move one of my legs and I stink like industrial solvent, but I’m great, actually.”

Finn’s eyes go wide. “What do you mean you can’t move your leg? Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’ll wear off here in a few minutes.” She squints at them. Even over the grainy projection their clothes look cleaner and the hints of sallowness are gone from their cheeks. Rey’s gone hungry enough in her life to recognize the signs.

“You’re getting fresh food again! But...where are you getting the credits? Did the old alliances finally decide to help?”

“...not exactly.”

Rey levels a glance at Finn and waits.

“We’re.” He fidgets. “Okay, look. We’re just escorting a few cargo shipments here and there. And by ‘we’ I mean me, mostly. Gotta put that Stormtrooper training to use somewhere, right?”

“For the _Hutts?!_ ”

“Somebody has to! I can’t just sit here and let the Resistance starve! What am I supposed to do, Rey? Nothing? No. Uh uh. I did enough nothing in the Order. I’m not doing that again."

She bites her lip. “I don’t like it.”

“We don’t either,” says Poe. “But this...war, survival, all of this...we gotta compromise, if we want to make it out alive.”

Rey nods. She’s learned a lot about compromise recently. She starts when the thunder rumbles again, closer this time. “We can’t keep this channel open too much longer, but I need to speak to Leia. Alone.”

Poe nods and vanishes offscreen. Finn looks around, leans closer, and asks, “So what’s she like? Ahsoka Tano. C’mon, Rey, I need to know! I keep thinking she’s like Maz with the. What’re they called? The head tails.”

“Lekku. And she is a bit like Maz, but different, too. Same temper, though. She’s actually letting me work and learn about the Force! I’m not used to belonging somewhere,” says Rey softly. “It’s a nice change.”

Finn tsks. “Hey, hey. You belong with us, too, and don’t you forget it. There’s always a place for you here.”

She gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Would they say the same thing if they knew about the bond?

“Rey?”

Finn scrambles out of the way, then Leia’s face comes into view. She looks tired, the kind of tired that won’t be cured by a good night’s sleep. Rey aches to tell her everything.

“I-”

She pauses when something patters on the roof, quickly going from a light sound to an all-out assault. The storm is here, finally.

“Rey?”

“Leia-”

Thunder roars, lightning bathes the garage in brief savage brightness, the hologram distorts-

“He’s alive!” Rey yells. “Ben’s still alive!”

Leia’s face is the last thing she sees before the power cuts out and the holo vanishes.

*

Ahsoka’s generator kicks on shortly after the storm hits and Rey takes a precursory glance at it before hauling herself upstairs to take a shower. Her senses twitch as soon as her hands touch the door to her bedroom. Frowning, she pushes inside as the bond darkens to a somber dark blue. Outside the rain picks up.

Her bed is empty and Kylo’s lightsaber is gone. There’s a discarded bacta patches on the floor. She reaches for him through the bond, but his side is locked down for the first time in weeks. Rey buries her hands in her hair and screams from behind gritted teeth. _Fuck_ , he’s so stupid sometimes.

She runs downstairs to grab her quarterstaff and take off after him, but Ahsoka stops her at the garage door.

“No.”

“NO?!” Rey almost stamps her good foot in frustration. “It’s pouring down rain, he’s going to tear his stitches-”

“And it is not your job to save him,” Ahsoka says, putting her hands on Rey’s biceps. “Kylo Ren can save himself, but first he must choose to do it.”

Something about hearing the name Kylo Ren makes Rey flinch. After everything, what if he chose the First Order over her? Chose blood, misery, and revenge, leaving to go where she can’t follow. He wouldn’t. He can’t.

Fighting with him in the throne room had been one of the most exhilarating moments of Rey’s life, and she felt how much he loved it too. And now, with the bond starting to settle and actually talking to each other without constant sniping, he enjoys just spending time with her. She _felt_ it, she knows, he can’t rip that away from them now, he just _can’t._  
  
Ahsoka continues, “It’s not fair and it feels like hell, but caring about sometimes means letting them make their own mistakes. It’s the only way they learn and grow.”

“But those mistakes affect MY life too! I don’t get to just walk away!”

Rey breaks off and swallows a sob. After everything she’s not going to cry again, not about him. Ahsoka’s there in an instant, folding her in a tight hug.  
  
“I know, Rey. I know, my girl. I know how hard it is to care for someone when they’re self-destructing, but it is not your responsibility to fix him or bear his consequences. Your partnership needs to be balanced and right now your job is to keep your side steady. You’re doing so well. Don’t let Kylo drag you under.”

Ahsoka doesn’t let go and little by little Rey stops shaking. “If he comes back I’m going to kill him,” she says in a watery voice, and Ahsoka chuckles.

“I’ll help you hide his body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr over at [bigneonglitter](http://bigneonglitter.tumblr.com/) if that's your jam. If anyone knows any good Reylo exchanges, do hit me up over there and let me know :) I don't know people in this fandom (particularly not any older folks like myself) but I'd like to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me. This chapter was a beast to write and then a [Reylo AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143474) popped into my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it, so yeah. This took a bit longer than expected. I hope it's worth the wait.

A loud clap of thunder jerks Kylo awake. He lies motionless until his heart stops racing and he’s able to find some semblance of a normal breathing pattern. In through his nose, out through his mouth, Rey’s scent in, his tension out. Her pillow smells like sunshine and warmth undercut with coppery spice, all good things he’s grudgingly come to associate with something like peace.

He can’t stay here.

*

Kylo can’t remember the last time he was truly alone in his own mind. Snoke had whispered to him since toddlerhood, Luke peeked in during his years at the academy, even the closed bond peruses his thoughts at leisure as he leaves Corvala and heads out into the grasslands. It’s strange to realize Rey always gave him his mental space, as much as she could at least. She’d give it to him now if he asked.

Thunder booms overhead and Kylo counts as he was taught. 

One, two, three, four-

Lightning. He only got to four between thunder and lightning. The storm will be here soon.

*

The rain, when it comes, is merciless and soaks Kylo to the bone. He finds shelter under a rocky outcrop and settles in to wait. 

Rey would be excited about the rain. Her eyes would light up, sparkle like the diamonds he wanted to wreathe her in, once, when he still thought she’d be his queen. Even his most treasured secret thoughts - Rey, naked save for his the jewels around her neck, jewels he’d brought her - aren’t as vivid as it would have been before he came to Shili. Kylo knows better now. He knows her better. 

She would decry gems and fine fabrics as wasteful and pointless when she was far more comfortable in a breathy tunic and pants, worker’s clothes, practical. Opulence would only chafe at someone who grew up with nothing.

He shakes rainwater out of his hair and tries to be pragmatic. Getting to Hux - getting his bare hands around that pale neck and choking the very life out of him - is much more difficult now that the treacherous shitheel crowned himself Emperor. It will take stealth, cunning, and trusted allies. Kylo trusts no one.

Trusted...no one. Until she changed everything.

He shoves the thought of Rey aside. The bond flares red and angry as the quillions on his lightsaber, a warning. Kylo ignores it and resumes his contemplation. Forming a plan that’s more than a glorified suicide mission will take time, which does nothing about the issue of a crew. He can buy temporary loyalty and dispose of those who will inevitably be foolish enough to try and cross him. All he has to do is find a ship, find a crew with nothing to lose, sneak onto Coruscant and hide from the Order’s countless eyes and ears all over the planet, kill Hux, and reclaim the First Order.

No one ever said it would be easy, least of all Kylo himself. Everything he worked for, everything he bled and suffered and sacrificed for, it will be his. Him, Darth Vader’s true heir, claiming his birthright and fulfilling his destiny.

Unbidden, Kylo’s mind flashes to his empty quarters back aboard the  _ Finalizer.  _ Nothing in there had been his, not really; besides the books on his datapad it was all standard issue and he’d always held himself above the need for personalizing his space. He remembers the too-crisp sheets sliding across his skin, forcing his eyes closed for night after restless night, the Force depositing Rey there and the way she curled against him, making his bed feel like a place of warmth and solace-

_ Kriff. _

He misses her. It’s been less than twelve hours since she slipped out of bed that morning, her Force signature a sunny gold while she got ready for work. She’d turned around once and touched his scar, a small secret moment even he wasn’t supposed to see. Care. Gentleness, after everything.

There’s a slight lull in the downpour. He has to keep moving.

*

Kylo beds down in the first cave he finds. It smells like wet turu-grass undercut with something faintly animal and there’s a pile of orange fur in the corner, yet there’s no sign of the creature it might have come from, no dung or discarded bones. The wind shrieks outside as he settles in for the night, choosing a protein bar to pass as dinner.

Sleep ( or unconsciousness, he can’t tell them apart, anymore) catches him unaware. One moment Kylo is awake and alert, watching the sky turn from swollen grey to inky darkness, the next he’s rolling over in the weak pre-dawn light, reaching for Rey and finding only stone. If he slept then she should have, too, and the bond should have-

The bond is a solid pale blue, impenetrable as ice. Kylo reaches for it, it wavers, warming for a second before it politely but firmly rebuffs him. So. Ahsoka Tano is finally teaching Rey to shield. 

He lays back, waits for the darkness to claim him again, and groans when it doesn’t. Kylo sighs and heads towards the mouth of the cave. He closes his eyes, the Force undulates…

“Who are you?”

“I am no one, same as you,” answers an accented feminine voice. “In the Force we are no one and everyone all at once.”

At that, Kylo opens his eyes. A dead Togruta sits at the mouth of the cave in a meditative position, turned towards the falling rain with her back to Kylo. Her curved montrals stand tall and the tips of her lekku brush the ground. The faint blue glue around her does nothing to ease his discomfort.

“Did you come all this way to spout riddles?” Kylo asks.

The Togruta pats the damp stone floor next to her. “Come. Sit with me.”

A Force ghost is nothing like the Sith holochrons Kylo’s encountered or the essence transfer Snoke was so desperate to achieve, but underestimating them is foolish. Even in death Jedi are not to be trusted. Warily he sits.

“Did you know that we Togruta are not fond of solitude?” she asks, after an indeterminable silence. “It began as necessity, for ours is a harsh homeworld with many predators we could not hope to defeat alone. Later it became our way of life.”

He nods, thinking of Kett calling Ahsoka his chosen elder sister and the triplets calling her Auntie despite not being blood kin. 

“We are stronger together, in families, in tribes, in units where the strength of many is glad to aid the strength of one,” the Togruta continues. “The Jedi understood that, to a point.”

Kylo snorts derisively. “Until the strength of one saw the downfall of the many.”

“For a time, yes.”

They fall silent again, listening to the rain. Kylo’s unashamed in his study of her; the white markings on her face encircle both eyes, traveling from the tops of her cheekbones to the highest planes of her forehead. Her brown robes are voluminous yet simple, the picture of Jedi piety, everything he never was. 

“What does a dead Jedi want from me?” he asks, and she hums.

“It says much that that’s your immediate assumption.”   
  
Kylo is unimpressed. “Does it.”

“Oh, yes. You’re not used to being sought out for your company instead of for your power.”

It’s true. He had few friends as a child and even fewer at the Temple. The thought of anything like friendship in the First Order is laughable to the point of insanity. Fraternization leads to weakness, affection turns to cowardice, grand purpose falls by the wayside. The currency of feeling is worthless next to that of strength and so Kylo cut that part of himself away and buried it in a place it would never be found.

Instead, it’s been scavenged.

He’s tried so hard not to think of the future in such plain terms. If he goes back to the First Order, he’ll lose Rey forever. They’ll still be bonded, he’ll still catch glimpses of her life, but his time as a part of it will be over. How many times has he broken for her? Must he repeatedly crack himself open and expose the most infected parts of his soul in the hopes that she will still welcome such a wretched thing into her life?

Yes.

Kylo swallows around the realization. The Togruta just smiles.

“And now you see.”

He waits for platitudes, some cliches about redemption, perhaps, but his strange companion offers nothing but her presence. It’s almost relaxing.

“Who are you?” he asks again.

Something like a smile passes over her face. “I am.”

*

Kylo awakes to a humid grey morning and the faintest sensation of a small hand touching his face. Rey is nowhere to be found, though; he reaches for her and sure enough the shield is holding. Another time he’d throw all of his strength at the shield to show her its weak points and just how much she has left to learn. Not now, though. Not when Rey wants to be left alone.

He rolls over and winces as a pebble digs into his spine. In spite of himself he’s proud of her. Her strength is blossoming under Ahsoka’s tutelage and she’s happy to be learning, even happier to have a teacher, and Kylo...is happy. For her. It’s an odd feeling to have, in relation to another person. Odd, but good, maybe.

The bond turns a questioning shade of pale green and Rey’s shield lowers. Kylo holds his breath and waits; it feels so good to have her close again even if it’s just like this and he can’t scare her off now. He won’t. 

They breathe together, a single breath in two pairs of lungs. 

When he feels her leaving Kylo has to bite his tongue to keep from crying out and begging her to stay. Her rules, her rules, her rules…

A ghost of sensation, her hand brushing his, then nothing.

*

He spends part of the afternoon hunting before the rain drives him back to the cave. Kylo knows only the very basics of how to clean an animal and has no idea what to expect from the small furry thing he intends to have for dinner, so in the end he forgoes the small knife in his pack and goes right for his lightsaber.

It burns his potential dinner to a crisp and Kylo throws the inedible hunk of flesh against the wall. The knife follows it, then his pack, then his fists, meeting sandy stone again and again as the pain clouds his senses. Pain is freedom. Pain is fuel. Pain will make him stronger as the weakness leaves his body, purge it out, gouge it all away then rebuild himself into something better.

Someone...who?

He doesn’t hear the cracking under his skin as bone succumbs to pressure and so Kylo keeps going until his rage burns out. He’s a mess. A disgrace of blood and lost control, his shame out in the open for anyone who cared to witness it.

Kylo laughs at the absurdity of it all. Six standard months ago he could never have imagined himself brought so low, scraping along the very bottom. He can’t stop laughing, loud and far, far out of his control. Only the stinging in his eyes tells him laughter is turning rapidly to crying, into horrible heaving sobs that wrack his whole body while the ever-present pain in his chest grows. Go ahead. Tear him apart. He deserves it, he welcomes it, but no, he’s still whole, and he can’t stop crying. Kylo - Ben? - can’t stop. He can’t stop. He can’t...

His subconscious reaches for the Force. It’s there like it always is, the gentle blanketing Dark and a call to the Light he’s worked so hard to ignore. Trembling, Kylo reaches for the Light.

He expects it to shut itself off from him and cower in fear, perhaps stand its ground in righteous judgement while it recites a scathing litany of his misdeeds. It should be curdled yellow, sickly and jaundiced with disgust at the mere thought of having  _ him _ back. 

Kylo forces himself to let it, braced for the shame-

The deluge never comes. Instead it’s as if a door has opened just enough to let some of the Light through into his soul, gently illuminating the darkness into a soft grey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's mystery Togruta guest is none other than Shaak Ti, a Jedi Master who fell victim to Darth Vader and Order 66.


	15. Chapter 15

Trust is a slippery and nebulous concept. Not altogether necessary, but useful, in its way.

Rey goes over the catalogue again, checking and re-checking the types she’s encountered. There’s trusting someone enough to show her back with the understanding they won’t shoot her. Then there’s leaving someone alone with her things and believing both the person and her things will still be there when she returns. Most difficult, though, is a person’s word.

Words are tricky. Rey likes deeds better.

*

Kylo never said he’d stay.

Then again, neither did she.

*

She and Ahsoka both trade in their coveralls for thin sleeveless tunics and work pants as the rainy season turns the humidity from stifling to all-out oppressive. The heavy winds kick up mud particles that stick to their skin no matter how many breaks they take to sponge off and sip chilled turu-grass tea; Rey ends every day just as filthy as she used to out in the Badlands.

Unlike the Badlands, though, there’s a shower waiting to rinse away the grime and a hot meal to fuel her for the next day.

Despite the hard work and her training ramping up, Rey’s definition of _wants_ and _needs_ has shifted drastically since she left Jakku. She _wants_ to go to a double feature at the projection house with the triplets after work. A year ago the thought of wasting credits on something so frivolous would have made her stomach turn. Now, though, she _needs_ to finish repairing the latest batch of fertilizer droids for the hydroponic growers in Corvala’s agriculture districts. Then, she _wants_ to wash up before indulging her new taste for the Togrutas' famous melodramas. Finally, after that, she _needs_ to run with Ahsoka along the darkened rooftops to practice imbuing the Force into her movements.

A peeled brinefruit floats over to hover right in front of Rey’s face. She smiles and pushes her work goggles out of the way before reaching for the treat.

“My favorite,” she says around a mouthful.

Ahsoka beams. “I know.”

Rey is still learning to accept little gestures of no-strings affection. Proper reciprocation is a clumsy and ongoing process. She doesn’t think on it too much, though, as Ahsoka’s eyes are bright and there’s a thread of anticipation woven around her bearing.

“I have something else for you,” she says.

Rey’s eyebrows lift in curiosity. “You do?”

“Focus. Use the Force and see if you can’t figure out what it is.”

Little by little reaching for the Force is becoming as reflexive as breathing. Rey opens herself, searching gently as fingertips skimming a lake’s surface. There’s Ahsoka’s familiar signature and her own, then there’s…Luke? No. It can’t be. Rey frowns and goes deeper.

It _is_ Luke, but not just him. There’s an older energy that melds with Luke’s, like his and yet not, with traces of Leia and more distant notes of Kylo. Rey shivers. She’s encountered it only once before, but she’ll never forget it.

“Anakin? Anakin Skywalker?”

Ahsoka smiles, proud and wistful. She opens her hand and reveals the kyber crystal from Luke’s broken lightsaber.

“I found this next to me when I woke up this morning. It’s time, Rey. You’re ready to build a saber of your own.”

Rey’s heart leaps up, then falls right back down. “How?”

“It’s different for everyone,” says Ahsoka, folding the crystal into Rey’s palm. “Take this, meditate over it, and let it get a sense of you. Kyber crystals aren’t quite sentient but they’re deeply in touch with the Force and they’ve got opinions about every person they come in contact with.”

“That’s comforting,” Rey mutters, and Ahsoka laughs.

“Trust me, I know it sounds strange, but this crystal came to you for a reason. It deserves to be put to good use.”

Hesitantly Rey opens her hand and looks down at it. It doesn’t look like much, not really, but she swears it’s vibrating in her hand, calling to her without words. A song only she can hear and only she knows to listen for. She closes her hand around it and nods.

“I’ll try.”

Something passes over Ahsoka’s face, gone before Rey can identify it. “That, my girl, is all anyone can ask of you.”

She kisses Rey’s forehead, then leaves her alone.

*

Rey takes the crystal to the projection house with her that night, tucked away in a leather pouch around her neck. Later, when she’s back in her own room, she takes it out to look at it, really look at it. The crystal is clear where it was blue earlier, but it’s still warm in her hand and alive with its own energy. It would be worth next to nothing back on Jakku, she thinks, then chases the thought away.

Three days of meditation to get the crystal fully attuned to her. Okay. Easy. Well, maybe.

Rey glances at her bed, then looks away. The shields she’s erected since Kylo left nearly a week ago are holding strong and even the bond has settled into a grudging olive green acceptance. She suspects it’s just biding its time, waiting, but there’s nothing to be done about it and she’s glad for the reprieve.

Ahsoka gave her the week off to work on the saber and Kett and the triplets are all under strict instructions that she’s not to be disturbed. Rey could go to bed and start the meditation after breakfast tomorrow, but the unheard song is getting louder. The crystal is ready.

“No time like right now,” she mutters, making a face.

The music stops, then begins again. It’s harsh and dissonant, calling to her. Rey doesn’t want to see her past but the crystal does, so she throws herself open and shows it everything.

“I come from nowhere,” Rey whispers. “Nothing. Just a broken place full of broken creatures, and sand, everywhere.”

Sand, yes, the crystal understands, and sends the desert song radiating through the Force. Howling winds, minuscule grains able to strip flesh from bone, the ugliest of beauty lurking in a Badlands mirage, yes, yes, it knows, and it answers.

Rey closes her eyes and settles back. It’s familiar here, safe to meditate and trade songs with her strange new bedfellow. From Tatooine to Jakku the desert will take, and take, and take, leaving only what’s viciously guarded. Now they can work together. Fitter and stronger, they will survive.

*

The three days pass in a haze. The crystal’s music reaches a soaring crescendo that echoes from the Force into Rey’s very soul, spooling the Light within her and infusing it with its own particular nuances. Light, yes, yes, it craves the Light, but it does not fear the Dark or what it means to carry the balance of both. Louder, louder, it sings, Rey’s voice in the Force joining it until they are one.

The song ends. Rey comes back to herself gradually, tired but not exhausted. Her eyes flicker open and she listens for the crystal as a new song begins. A chant, rhythms of mechanics and scraps, schematics and design, ingenuity’s aria as something new rises from the ashes of the past.

Yes. Yes. She can build this. She can, and she will.

*

Out in the grasslands, Kylo looks up. The bond, which has been unusually quiet the past three days, flies wide open and flairs so brightly he has to shield his eyes. He lowers his hand to look and there’s Rey, seated cross-legged on her bedroom floor, hunkered over a kyber crystal with her scrap collection and toolkit in easy reach.

She’s crossed a new threshold in his absence, undergoing the rite of passage that is building her lightsaber. The kyber crystal is yellow. He might’ve guessed as much, with the way the sun is all but branded onto her. It’s fitting.

Without looking up Rey sends a touch down the bond, barely a shiver but more than enough to make Kylo want to fall to his knees with how much he missed it. Instead he sits down in his cave, mirroring her posture, and watches her work.


End file.
